What Will Be
by LucyMb
Summary: A serial killer is on the loose in Honolulu and Danny Williams is nowhere to be found. Steve McGarrett and the rest of the Five-O team race against time to find one of their own before it's too late.
1. Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1

MONDAY 6.30AM

The sound of the sirens seemed a long way off as he ran in the opposite direction, away from the noise, the cars, the smell of blood and the dead. He had no idea of where he was going or what he was going to do, his need was just to get away.

He was breathless and had a stitch in his side which made it all the more difficult to think. As he rounded a corner he stopped, backed against a solid stone wall and hunched over, fingers pressed to his ribs trying to force air back into his lungs whilst he figured out what to do next.

He needed to get as far away as possible but he knew it wouldn't be long before he'd be spotted wearing the clothes he had on. The writing on the blue overall stood out a mile and he felt exposed. There was also the inconvenient wetness forming in his shoe from the wound on his calf and it made his sneakers slip and squelch faintly every time he took a step. Studying the situation he realised that was the least of his problems and if it hadn't been for the blood he may never have escaped at all.

The police were fools and didn't seem to understand his needs, he wasn't a criminal – just someone with _very_ definite tastes, he shouldn't be locked up – he should be given a congregation.

With his breathing more in check he pushed himself off the wall and started walking; he deliberately slowed his pace so as not to attract attention. The world should be waking up soon, people getting ready to go to work, taking kids to school or deciding what to cook for breakfast. _Normal people with boring normal lives_. He hated every one of them. If anyone stopped him he would kill them.

When he saw no one he started jogging, only slowing down if someone came into view and then he kept his head down, his long brown hair and stubble hiding most of his features from public gaze.

After half an hour or so of aimless wandering and with the sirens far behind him but not so far that he felt he was safe, he came across a small group of untidy shops; a grocers of the type that sold few things at inflated prices to the locals who found it too difficult to drive the bigger malls. A Hawaiian tattoo parlour that looked hideously out of place in the neighbourhood, a small post shop, a paper booth that doubled as a cleaners and a fish bar selling battered food from owners who, the man thought to himself, probably had unclean hands. The post shop and fish bar were closed although the part of the cleaner's shop selling papers seemed to be opening up now in readiness for the rush of locals seeking morning news with their cornflakes. The stranger had no real sense of the time but knew it was too early for most shops to be open and as a consequence there was little activity anywhere in sight barring the small Chinese man pulling the shutter up to the paper kiosk.

The man thought wistfully of his own shop back home in Illinois. His stock was tobacco and other smokes – not always legal ones but no one ever questioned that and his special customers made sure he was never bothered by the police. In fact had it not been for the unfortunate incident with the garbage he had buried in his back yard the cops wouldn't have even have pissed on him if he was on fire. Now he was a hunted man and it felt all so unfair so _unpleasant.._

He moved out of sight of the shop owner and into an empty telephone booth noticing as he did so that vandals had rendered the phone inoperable. He hunched into the corner to view the scene from relative safety whilst he waited for inspiration to strike.

It didn't take long.

He hadn't realised before but the corner grocery store appeared to be open and there was some activity inside. He waited patiently like the predator he was.

Perhaps he could hold up the store and get some cash – he needed money to get out of the islands. Maybe steal a car from the parking lot he saw out back. He noticed in the dull light of the interior someone waving goodbye to one of the assistants. It was a woman and she exited the shopl, two large brown bags of shopping in her arms. She was small and blonde. He couldn't tell from a distance if she was young or old but what caught his eye was that she was wearing the prettiest outfit of a blouse and full skirt. She was crisp, clean and very neat. The shirt was a pale butter colour and the skirt had large white flowers on a canary yellow background and peeking out from underneath was an out-of-fashion white cotton petticoat. Even her belt and scarf matched. She wore a straw hat to shade her head from the sun and as she turned towards the parking lot with her skirt flouncing around her legs she looked like a milkmaid from one of those television advertisements for dairy produce or Doris Day.

Perhaps his day was looking up after all.

He carefully stepped out of the booth and checked for anyone watching before heading at a fast pace into the car park to follow her.

The woman placed a bag of groceries on the ground and with the other tucked under one arm was fumbling with the car key, trying to insert it into the lock.

He seemingly came out of nowhere and grabbed her from behind placing one hand straight over her mouth in case she screamed. Instantly she froze in shock from the assault, and as her hands came up to grab his hand in an attempt to ward of the attack, she dropped the rest of her shopping. The woman started struggling but was pushed against the car door – her body pressed between the metal and her attacker with the full force of his sinewy body. He was a big man and a five-foot-something woman was no match for him. As he continued to push her he reached with his other hand into the belt of the overalls where he had made a pocket-like slit in the material and fished out something that barely glinted in the morning sun.

He relished the feeling of her body moving against his and wanted to prolong the excitement but realised he had bigger goals than this woman so swiftly, quietly and without mercy, he slit her throat with the small scalpel blade in his hand. The woman had no time to cry out, blood spurted from the wound in her neck and along the top and sides of the car as he continued to hold her there whilst her life drained away. He kept her in that position with her neck pulled back to let the blood flow out easily, her struggles weakened until he felt her die, her last breath accompanied by a gurgle as the life bubbled from her ….

"Que será, será little darling" he said before allowing the now lifeless woman to drop to the ground.

He was confident no one had heard or seen the murder and he felt elated, alive and energised like nothing he had felt in months. He dragged the woman's body away from the door and quickly scooped up the provisions that had scattered around the car then together with the other brown bag he shoved them into the leg space of the back seat. He picked up her hat and popped it on his head at a jaunty angle.

Breathing heavily from a combination of exertion and excitement, the killer lifted the woman's body onto the back seat - sliding her across it and smearing the covering with fresh blood. He banged the door shut and trapped the edge of the flowery yellow skirt in it. His fingers brushed the delicate material and he re-opened the door gently to release the dress, treating it as though it were a living thing.

Almost as an afterthought he looked at the amount of blood on the sedan's paintwork and realised he would need to get rid of it in case it was noticed. The scarlet was so sharp against the stark white. Taking the scalpel he had just used on the woman's flesh, he pulled up her skirt and sliced a large section of her petticoat off before returning the scalpel to its home. He gaily wiped off the red liquid as casually as if he were washing a car. Grisly handiwork done he picked up the keys from the ground, dumped the soiled cloth into the car, got into the driver's seat and drove off.

The killer started to whistle a song happily to himself as he pulled out of the car park and turned right onto the open road, away from his third murder scene of the day.

Doris Day would have been horrified.

He hadn't even thought about the possibility that the woman he had killed had carried a purse, a purse that in the struggle had got kicked under the car and out of sight. As the car pulled away the exposed tanned leather looked out of place on the grey concrete surrounded by a shadow of fresh blood like a solitary boulder in a shiny rock pool.

MONDAY 7.10am

The breeze had a cool edge to it but the new morning sunshine warmed the man standing on the lanai. Every now and then the keen bite of the wind cut through the warmth and raised goosebumps on his naked flesh causing him to shudder involuntarily.

Undeterred, he stood with his hands on the balustrade, fingers gripping the wood, his boyish face turned to soak up the heat as the sun rose further in a crystal blue sky. He closed his eyes against the glare and sighed deeply - chest rising and falling.

Perspiration trickled gently down his lightly tanned torso stopping every now and then to negotiate a muscle or a swell slowly continuing its doomed path down the length of the man's body to meet the top of his loose blue shorts before disappearing from sight. The occasional drip made its slick way to the decking beneath him and onto his bare feet.

He raised one hand and ran it through damp, tightly curled hair. His whole body glowed in the morning air.

A noise from inside broke the reverie and a voice heavy with romance asked "Danny, are you coming back to bed?'

Reluctant to give up his soul searching but knowing he had a different kind of bliss awaiting him in the bedroom he looked back through the lanai doors to call gently to the woman with whom he had shared a bed last night "Just give me a moment Lizzie."

A sleepy note of agreement came back to his ears "Mmnn." said his lover before tucking a feather pillow further under her head and retreating back to slumber and dreams of the night before.

Dan Williams, law enforcement officer and Five-0's second in command sighed again and stretched his arms over his head easing the tension in the muscles of his back, revelling in both the coolness of the breeze and the warmth kissing his skin.

Squinting from the light, he took one last look back at the view across the rough patch of grass in front of the cottage to the stretch of golden beach and the sea beyond with its foamy waves waxing and waning. He turned and glanced at the sleeping form inside; Danny smiled remembering their evening together but he felt bad about their relationship too.

Dan found it hard to get closer to women than a few dates before the damage from his past self-sabotaged any relationship he was in. Part of his problem was the depth of feeling he had for anyone who shared his life. Never the kind of guy for one-night stands he chose his partners carefully, almost to a formula, and found himself falling hopelessly in love with every one of them. If he didn't he could never bring himself to sleep with them. But even though he longed for a partner, his mind screamed at him not to go there again; not to risk getting close and losing them…again…._like Jane_.

Even now, after a lengthy courtship and half a dozen intimate dates with the beautiful brunette lying beyond the doors he could feel the pain of his loss start again and the need to get away; to release himself from the weight of responsibility he would feel if he brought her into his life. _What if she was taken from him as Jane had been? _

He felt guilty immediately for thinking that. Here he was standing in the Hawaiian sunshine having made love to a wonderful woman who cared about him deeply, as he did her, and he was already contemplating dumping her. Dumping was probably not the the most appropriate word but Danny knew, in his heart, he would unconsciously start pushing her away and somehow he felt today was that day. The job, Steve McGarrett, his life in Five-0, those would be the excuses – again. It all seemed so inevitable that part of him wondered why he fought it so hard.

Stumbling a little from sun blindness and trying not to disturb her, he padded around the bed and took a good look at the curvaceous body lying before him, barely concealed by the cotton. He lifted the sheets and climbed back into the space he had so recently vacated.

Danny leaned over and gently pushed a stray strand of hair from her forehead as he studied her perfect skin, still feeling ashamed of himself. Opening her eyes, the woman turned as she felt his weight dip the mattress and brought one arm up to lie on Dan's sun-warmed chest whilst she spooned her body into his. Danny kissed her passionately as she clasped his back and pulled him to her.

"Danny, I love you.." she murmured.

…and all the while his mind screamed _guilt_y'

MONDAY 7.48AM

In the Five-O offices at the Iolani Palace Steve McGarrett paced the length of his room, fingers twirling a pencil to such great effect that the two detectives with him; Kono Kalakaua and Chin Ho Kelly, could not keep their eyes off the writing implement as if hypnotised.

Kono shifted his bulk uneasily in the chair, the hot leather making his trousers stick.

"Gentleman," the Five-0 boss said as he continued pacing, "we have a potentially volatile situation here. Two officers are dead and a dangerous escaped criminal on our island with no leads at present as to where he might be."

He stopped pacing and turned to face the men before parking one hip on the side of his large wooden desk.

Still brandishing the pencil like a weapon he continued, "Chin bring us up to speed on the situation, tell us what happened this morning."

The oriental detective dragged his gaze from the writing implement and replied, "Not good Steve. As you know we got a call this morning at around 6.40am from the boys downtown, they sounded real panicked; said a killer was on the loose and that they needed our help. Dispatch passed it to me and I drove down to Aliamanu Park and met the officer there who was more than a little shaken up." Chin paused and his face paled as if remembering something awful.

"It's okay Chin, even if it's unpleasant we need to know details."

"Sure Steve." Regaining his composure he continued, "When I got there the place was crawling with HPD but it was chaotic. Appears someone missed us out of the loop on this and they sure paid for it!

Lieutenant Franks finally took charge at the scene so I spoke to him. Apparently there were two police cars transporting a prisoner; the lead and a backup. The officers in the vehicle following were badly shaken but not hurt however it was the guys in the lead car, the one carrying the prisoner, who were most seriously involved. Both dead."

Chin paused, reflecting again on what he had heard. "Something happened in that car to make it crash Steve, both collided and the lead one spun out and hit a phone pole, busting the radiator. The other squad car was badly damaged but managed to stay on the road. The HPD officer driving the lead car had been killed by the prisoner so we assume that was how he lost control. The other officer was then forced out of the car with a blade to his throat."

McGarrett was confused. "Hold it, back up Chin. How did a high security prisoner get hold of a knife?"

"They don't know Steve. Somehow the escapee had secreted a knife upon his person. They have no idea how he did it - he was strip searched after capture and just before they set off for the airport. At this stage we just know he has a weapon."

"Did he take the officer's guns?" Steve said, concerned.

"That's the funny part, he didn't even touch them!"

"Who is this guy?" McGarrett asked.

"Roger Cooke – seriously bad dude. Name ring any bells?"

Kono beat Steve to it. The big Hawaiian sat forward in his chair. "Sure I know him. He's the guy that killed those men in Illinois isn't he? One sick haole!"

Steve agreed "He was convicted of the murder of eight men and one woman as I recall. They suspected more bodies but never found any. I don't remember the whole case but I'd remember his face anywhere; his mugshot was in the papers for months." He added "He was supposed to be awaiting re-trial on the mainland, something about new evidence coming to light I believe. What's he doing here on our rock Chin?"

"No idea, still waiting to hear. All Franks told me was he had escaped to Honolulu, means unknown, then was recaptured here before he even got past immigration. After an overnight at Halawa they were taking him back to the airport for a 9am flight out.

The cavalcade arrived at the prison about 6am to pick Cooke up and get the papers signed over. It took a while but everything went smoothly; no hint of any trouble until just before the crash." Chin continued "The guys were supposed to turn the prisoner over to someone from the Illinois SPD who was arriving this morning to accompany Cooke back to the mainland with an armed escort."

"Right, so how did the other officer die?"

Chin shook his head "When I spoke to the others they said after their car crashed they got out, pulled their guns and approached the transport then noticed a struggle going on. From what they could see the driver appeared to be seriously injured, or dead, and they believe the other officer hit the windshield. They think he was dazed which is how Cooke overwhelmed him."

Steve was genuinely shocked "Are you telling me that HPD allowed a murderer to be transported in an ordinary squad car without even a mesh shielding the officers!?" He sat down in his chair with a heavy thump, amazed at what he was hearing.

Chin and Kono looked at each other. Kono slowly shook his head at their stupidity.

"I thought the same boss," Chin said. "Seems to me negligence is the least of their worries. Someone's going to pay for this with their badge."

"Damn straight, I'll see to it! Two people have already paid with their lives! I'll make sure every one of those involved in such a stupid, incompetent plan gets precisely what they deserve. God help them if anyone from the general public gets hurt because of this! Go on Chin."

"So at that point the officers said they weren't sure if Cooke had a gun so they stayed a safe distance away and appealed to him to come out with his hands up. He had the other officer, Officer Johnson, by the hair and forced him out of the car where he used him as a human shield"

"Wasn't he handcuffed either or did they do something right?" McGarrett said sarcastically.

"He was handcuffed but not behind his back apparently and he held a blade to Johnson's throat. One of the other guys said it seem small like some kind of razor blade but he wasn't sure, all he knew was their fellow policeman was in trouble. One slip of that knife and he was dead.

Cooke called for them to put their weapons down and they complied, raising their hands and backing off further. They said he seemed mad, kept laughing and whistling.

Because of the hostage they didn't see any other option than to let the prisoner go. Once he'd dragged Johnson off behind some bushes they retrieved their guns and gave chase. By the time they caught up the young officer was lying on the ground bleeding. They tried to help him but he bled out from a throat wound. Cooke's cuffs were beside the body and no sign of the prisoner. That's when they called it in."

Steve was shocked at the senseless waste of life, all through incompetence.

"Both officers were married Steve and Johnson was only twenty-three!" Chin was genuinely affected by what he had seen that morning. "That blade really tore up Officer Keeley's neck. I've never seen so much blood."

Kono felt sick as he pictured it.

McGarrett got up from the chair and put a sympathetic hand on the detective's shoulder.

"I'd hate to be the one to break the news to those guy's widows!" Chin shook his head.

"Don't worry my friend you won't have to but get Che Fong and Doc Bergman to check those officers' wounds would you? We must know how he's armed."

"Should we get Danny back in on this one boss? Seems like we could do with the extra help."

"Yeah Kono, tell Danno I'm sorry to break up his long weekend but we need all hands on deck for this one. I don't know what he is doing can you find him?"

Kono grinned bringing a much needed lightness back into the conversation. "Think I have a pretty good idea what he was up to!"

"Girls?" Steve asked and smiled knowingly before retreating back to the pile of papers on his desk. "Chin I also want you to get everyone that was involved this morning in my office wiki wiki. We need statements and tell HPD we're taking over this investigation. They've lost the right to any privileges the way it's been handled so far. Make sure all free units are despatched to cover the area the prisoner escaped. Start a grid search and put Cooke's description on an APB. Kono?"

"Yes boss?"

"Get down to the airport, see if that marshall or agent has arrived from Illinois and if so bring him back here. We need more intel. on this Cooke guy before we go further.." Steve added "On your way out please send Jenny in, oh and don't forget to tell Danny to put his suit on before he comes to work!"

They laughed and opened the door to leave just as Steve's secretary, Jenny Sherman stepped past them and into the room. Kono didn't bother to relay McGarrett's request to her, seemed her normal sixth-sense was working anyway.

"Sorry Steve, there's a gentleman to see you, a Doctor Woodfield wanting to speak to you about the case."

"Okay love, send him in. Oh and Jenny"

"Yes Steve?"

"Mahalo for coming in so early on a Monday morning, I appreciate your help. Any chance of a coffee?"

Jenny smiled, happy that the head of Five-0 had time to worry about his staff "No problem – on both counts." She said and turned to usher a tall, slender man into the room.

He was a a sombre-looking individual dressed in a faded black suit, blue shirt and a burnt orange patterned tie. His long face was freckled and his light brown hair - worn slightly long - retreated back in a receding hairline. Topping off the effect were fashionable sideburns and cold, steely blue-grey eyes. Woodfield's handshake was firm as McGarrett promptly asked, "What can I do for you Mr..?"

"Woodfield" he finished for him " Doctor Anthony Woodfield but call me Tony." He smiled at the Five-0 chief and looked as though he expected to be offered a seat but McGarrett simply replied "_Doctor_ Woodfield, what brings you to my office so early? I'll tell you now, if you're a reporter," he pointed to the door Woodfield had come through "there is the door."

Woodfield gave a slight grimace, he'd heard what Hawaii's state unit chief could be like. "No, you misunderstand," he said with conviction, "I'm a criminal psychologist and I've come to give you some strong advice."


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER TWO

MONDAY 8.03am

She was gone and Danny thought he was late. He couldn't shake the feeling that he was walking through a dream; whether a result of the night's exertions or the unconscious knowledge of things to come he wasn't sure but he was unable to clear his head.

Standing in the shower at his girlfriend's apartment he put both hands on the tiled wall and let the warm water wash his naked body. Wet soap tumbled to the floor and he stared at it as it disappeared, never to be seen again. He wished his thoughts could drain away so easily.

It was enough that he knew his mind so well as to know what the future between himself and Lizzie would be without him compounding his guilt by staying with her. _Even a cop gets lonely_, he thought scoffingly. _But what about commitment?_ The word made him cringe. In his mind he _was_ committed – to Steve McGarrett, to Five-O and police work.

Switching off the taps Danny opened the door and stepped out of the shower, water dripping in his eyes as he fumbled for a towel. Finding one he wrapped it about his waist and quickly went about shaving and dressing for work before his boss sent someone round to find him. It was only then he recalled he had one more day off. A rare treat that had completely slipped his mind. Treading back out of his work pants he berated himself for being so empty-headed and put on a pair of shorts and a t-shirt he had packed for the weekend. He decided to go for a run.

Danny eased his feet into some socks and sun loafers and popped into the small galley kitchen to fill the kettle. He hoped the exercise would help him shake off the alien feelings in time for a coffee and a nice relaxing day on the beach. He even thought of suprising Lizzie at work with lunch.

But still he felt _guilty_.

Setting up a mug and putting the water on to boil, Dan went back into the bedroom and locked his gun and ID away in Elizabeth's gun cabinet under the bed before going out of the sliding doors. He had no key to the apartment so he left them unlocked, intending to be back shortly. The neighbourhood was generally quiet so he wasn't concerned about leaving the place un-secured.

As his legs pounded along, the morning air was as delightful as it had been earlier that day and he felt happier and more contented, adrenalin helping to push most of the bad thoughts to the back of his mind. It was hard to run on the beach, the sand moving underfoot and straining his tendons so he headed towards the road and a nice, flat pavement.

Danny kept moving left, away from the beach house and through side streets. Picking up speed he revelled in the exercise and how good it felt to be away from the stresses of the office for one day, his first break in almost six months. Jogging back up to the main road and across to a crescent he figured to do one more turn before turning back, coffee forgotten with the exercise.

As Danny ran across the road he glimpsed a woman with her head under the bonnet of a car but took little notice of her. It was only when he rounded another corner he recalled the street was known for some doped up kids and car thieves and figured he ought to see if the woman needed help.

He berated himself for trying to take on the world's pain and realised it was probably his anxiety over Lizzie that made him feel the need to be a knight in shining armour. Regardless, he was a cop and it was his duty to protect and serve.

Danny turned back into the road and called out to the woman from a distance, hand raised to shade his eyes from the sun, "Hey! Madam, are you okay there? Do you need help?'"

In reply she turned her head slightly, long brown hair hiding her face as she looked at the man at the end of the road. She appraised him. He was a young sturdy looking male with short-cropped curly hair that seemed to absorb the sunlight like gold glinting off a ring. She also noticed underneath his shorts strong legs and a chest that filled out the red t-shirt he was wearing very nicely indeed. She just _knew_ he had beautiful eyes, blue probably if the sun hurt them like that. Smiling she waved a beckoning hand.

To be a policeman is by nature to be suspicious, but with the light in his eyes Dan noticed nothing out of the ordinary about the scene until he was within a short distance of the car. Then he noticed the woman had rather hairy legs, one of which was covered in what looked like blood. His cop senses prickled.

He regretted leaving the house without his piece or badge, feeling naked without the paraphernalia of his job. A cop is never off duty. As Danny weighed up the scene he contemplated making an excuse and going for back up but if he did so he risked losing the suspect.

With the long hair he was still unsure if it was a man or woman and took a couple of unobtrusive steps back before cautiously asking the person what happened. He was no nearer to her than ten relatively safe feet away when suddenly, with a ferocity and speed that Danny could never have predicted, the woman' swung round, a wicked-looking tyre iron in her' hand and she rushed him. Danny had no time to think let alone react as the shock of her attack forced him back apace before she bludgeoned him, the blow hitting his right cheek with a force that could have taken his head off.

Danny went down so fast he registered almost nothing, legs collapsing awkwardly under his body. His first impression was that of pitch black eyes in a sea of yellow smothering him, then pure agony. The only other thing he saw before blacking out was yellow shoes dancing before his eyes, then a red haze and finally - nothing.

Cooke, now dressed in his first victim's clothing, pounced on Danny, anxious to get back into the safety of the car. He heaved the unconscious man up into the back seat and with some difficulty managed to slide his dead weight across the bloody cream leather. _ A nice strong young man _Cooke thought to himself happily.

Cooke eased the bonnet down quietly and, as was his habit, checked to see he hadn't left any evidence in plain sight before getting in the car. In his eagerness to be on his way he pressed the accelerator too hard and tires squealed in the suburban peace.

On the side street by the corner where Danny first spied his assailant, stood a house that you would be forgiven for thinking was abandoned. Crusty white paint had peeled off the clap board and bare wood was rotting underneath, finger-sized splinters broken here and there added to the squalid appearance. Not one window pane was intact and the shredded grey nets behind them bore signs of pollution where broken gaps met the incoming dust. The house was far from abandoned though, it was the residence of four kids whose squat was the closest thing they had to home and today, behind one of those gaps in the curtains, a young haole named Mack stared out at the place where he had just witnessed what he thought was a kidnapping barely moments before.

Mack didn't know if he wanted to do anything about it or whether, given his run-ins with the fuzz on and off, he would decide not to play the good citizen and just shut the hell up. Someone, somewhere was bound to notice the person was missing. It wasn't his job to help the cops – was it? Besides from what Mack could tell the force of the blow that felled the guy may have already killed him and he wasn't about to get involved in murder. Or maybe the man killed the woman? With what he had been smoking that morning he was entirely too confused to be sure of anything.

Mack went back to rolling his next joint and decided he might just ignore the whole thing. But he doubted he would ever forget that yellow skirt.

After leaving McGarrett's office Kono headed straight for Danny's desk. The woman he was looking for wasn't in the Rollerdex so he opted to try the diary, just in case Dan had her number there. Jenny, seeing Kono in Danny's office and fiercely protective of her two main men, waltzed in to check what Kono was up to.

"Can I help you with something Kono?" She asked in a very business-like manner

He immediately closed the diary on the desk and blushed under his olive complexion, the action in itself appearing to confirm his guilt. "Hey Jenny, I'm just…er…Steve told me to find Danno and I needed to see where he's been this weekend so we can ring him to tell him to get back here wiki-wiki."

Jenny wasn't quite sure if she believed Kono but proved more than helpful. "He was with his girlfriend Lizzie at the weekend, I believe they were staying at her place.'

"Great, mahalo. I thought he might have been. I don't suppose.." he left the enquiry unfinished and looked hopeful.

Reading his mind, Jenny walked to her desk and retrieved Elizabeth's phone number for him.

Kono looked down at the piece of paper, surprised. "How come you've got her number?"

"Because, unlike _some_ people," she said – poking a nail polished finger into Kono's large girth - "Danny knows how important it is to stay in touch in case anything happens at work – holiday or no holiday!"

He ignored the implied criticism and asked to use her phone rather than walk back to his own desk.

Back at the beach house Lizzie's phone rang and rang with no one to answer.

In the empty kitchen the water in the kettle was boiling.

Kono hung up the phone and shook his head "Well golden boy ain't in touch now. You don't have an address for this wahine by any chance do you?"

Jenny, one of the best secretaries McGarrett ever had, produced an address within seconds.

"Here you go, Elizabeth Grant's address but mind how you go now – she and Danny are going steady, if you know what I mean!."

Kono chuckled "Trust me, I know Danny and I ain't about to bust in on him and no chick without knocking first, he'd killed me!"

Elizabeth Grant's apartment was on the beach road near Waikiki and Kalakua drove there expecting to find Williams lazily sunning himself on the lanai. When he knocked there was no answer and the front door was closed so he walked around the back of the property and called out before testing the balconydoors. He was surprised to find them open and went inside. What he didn't expect to find was the place deserted, the back unlocked, a kettle about to burn itself dry and Danny's clothes strewn around the bedroom but no sign of Danny or the woman.

Kono walked back to his car to call into the office and let them know he couldn't find Danny but that he'd keep looking. As he was about to make his report his stomach lurched. It could have been the lack of breakfast or perhaps the still vivid picture he had conjured up in his mind from the briefing this morning but seeing the place empty and all of his friend's clothes there Kono inexplicably began to worry.

He searched up and down the beach for just about as long as he could cope with sand filling his shoes and seagulls screeching overhead; he even asked a few early sun worshippers if they'd seen Dan. No one of them had.

Eventually Kono gave up and returned to his car to continue on to the airport to see if the marshall had arrived from the mainland before McGarrett blew him out.

After ten minutes driving he'd already figured Danny would turn up.

8.45am

Roger Cooke, serial killer, sadist and kidnapper loved the feel of women's clothing; not the way that legendary director Ed Wood did with his fluffy cardigans, just the simple pleasure of letting his hands wander over a woman's attire without her screaming at him which, up until now at the ripe old age of forty-five, was all the intimate contact he'd ever had with the fairer sex. Of course there was forced intimacy with women, but even then he wasn't quite sure that was all it was cracked up to be.

His escape momentarily forgotten after taking possession of his latest prize, he felt the desperate need to satisfy the seductive feeling of power once more. He had been deprived of his own brand of enjoyment for so long within the dull walls of prison that he could hardly think straight.

Cooke found himself on Diamond Head Road and, eager to get a proper look at the body lying on the back seat of his stolen car. He picked up speed; oblivious of the risk and heading to? - he knew not where.

Glancing back occasionally to ensure Danny hadn't regained consciousness, Cooke spied a concrete factory driveway that looked to be unused. Pulling slowly onto the premises he rolled up to the gated entrance and parked under the skeleton of a long-dead tree.

He sat still for a moment, savouring the warm tingle rushing through his body. It was always the same before his game began. _Anticipation is always better than realisation_ his momma always said, but to Roger the realisation had been just as good, if not better.

He got out and stretched his legs, releasing the knots in his leg muscles and slipped the shoes off to flatten his cramped feet. One calf was painful from a wound and he was careful to avoid the damage there. The woman he'd murdered had particularly small feet and even these slight heels were killing his arches and rubbing the skin off his achilles tendon. Cooke made a mental note to check that kind of detail for the next time round.

He set about surveying the factory, running his eyes over everything in the hope of finding a gap in the fence to use to his advantage; seeing none he returned to the car disappointed.

Eager to put his hands to work he opened the back door of the vehicle and unceremoniously dragged Danny out, dumping him on the concrete to view him properly like a butcher examining a cut of meat.

One side of Danny's body was coated in the young woman's blood and it was a sticky mess along his face and clothing. The other side was just as messed up, this time with his own blood that had oozed from a nasty looking cut on the man's cheek where the tyre iron smacked him. The bleeding had pretty much slowed to a stop but the cheek was swollen and turning purple from the bruising; Cooke thought it looked particularly tender; if not broken. He was delighted.

The plan to satisfy his habit had worked just as it always had in the past; just as he knew it would again when he first spied the man calling out to him, this one was _perfect_ for him. Not too young or old he had, underneath the swelling and blood, a handsome but youthful face, full lips and a shock of curly hair that seemed almost fair in the light. Not Adonis but close enough.

Danny was wearing a tight red t-shirt and cut off denim shorts. His body was trim and although not over muscled he was toned which meant he took care of himself; careful to balance his physique so his arms didn't look more muscular than his legs. _Perhaps he's a tennis player_? Cooke thought to himself. _Nice ass too_.

"I'll bet the ladies love you!" He chuckled looking down at the unresponsive Dan.

With the point of his ladies' shoe Cooke kicked Danny hard in the ribs to see if he would respond or if he was playing possum_. Nothing – out cold. _Just as he hoped. For the moment at least.

Cooke knelt beside the injured man and ran his hands up and down the inert body, searching everywhere in case of anything hidden or that he could use to his advantage. Nothing; no wallet and no identification. As he searched he stopped now and then to admire the smooth skin around Danny's naked legs and even stroked one finger along the inside of a thigh. _Nice, almost a shame to mark it_. He thought excitedly. He peeled back a closed eye lid and stared into bright blue eyes. Killer to victim.

He got up and from the glove compartment Cooke retrieved the nylons he had peeled off the dead woman's body before dumping her in nothing but her underwear. He hoped she wouldn't be found for a while in order to aid his escape but he was fairly sure that in his haste he'd done a poor job of hiding her body from view.

He pulled Danny's knees up to his chest in a foetal position, eliciting an involuntary moan of pain from the injured man and tied the nylons around his wrists and down to his ankles so tightly he was almost cutting off the circulation. Now his victim wouldn't be able to straighten properly or get his arms up to tackle him from behind.

Puffing with the exertion Cooke lifted Dan and placed the now trussed detective in the back of the car like a pig at a lua. He took another look at the factory but there was no way he could use it as his hideout, he couldn't get in.

Roger was frustrated that he couldn't start the game - _yet_.

A short while later and prompted by the pain messages filtering through to his brain Danny started to come round. His vision was fuzzy with a red haze in his right eye that he thought was blood. His head and face throbbed and the movement of the car made him nauseous. Dan had no idea what happened to him or where he was; the last thing he remembered was someone rushing towards him and then nothing -just shadows and pain.

He deduced he was in the back of a moving car and felt, before he saw, that his hands and legs were tied with something that appeared to be women's nylons. Someone was whistling. _The driver?_

Hearing the creak of leather in the back of the car Cooke looked in the rear view mirror and spied his victim now awake and struggling to sit up.

"Hello and welcome to Hell!" he said welcomingly.

Who are you?' Danny ventured somewhat groggily.

"Don't you know?' The driver seemed genuinely surprised.

_Definitely a man's voice. _Williams thought about announcing himself as a police officer but wasn't sure how helpful that would be in his present predicament. For all he knew the man would kill him because he was a cop.

Dan shook his head, careful to avoid sudden movement, "No, I haven't a clue. Why did you kidnap me?" He tried to sound calm but his heart was beating loudly in his ears and his voice was weak. He couldn't see much of the man driving, just the long brown hair that had fooled him and the back of his head.

Cooke looked over his shoulder affording Danny a marginally better look at his attacker. "My we are curious aren't we? All in good time my friend." The man offered, then added, somewhat hurt, "Do you really not know me? I thought _everyone_ knew me?" Without waiting for an answer he shrugged and turned his attention back to driving.

Danny's attempts to sit up failed, there was no way he could overpower his kidnapper they way he was hog-tied. "Look I still don't know who you are so why don't you tell me what I'm doing here and what you want with me?"

Cooke was silent.

Dan suddenly noticed the dark red stickiness on the seat he was lying on and felt sick as he identified it, he knew it wasn't his blood as nothing but his head registered pain but he was lying in the stuff. _Very wrong place, wrong time Danno, Great!_ He thought to himself.

Blood, too much for someone to still be alive and a man wearing women's clothing!? Danny wondered if the car was stolen and aside from using female clothes as a disguise, he was very concerned that the blood he was soaked in might belong to the previous owner of the garments.

A voice from the front cut into his thoughts. "I've just been shopping---I needed some supplies!" The man said almost to himself and went back to whistling; it was a film tune that Danny recognised but he couldn't place it for the moment.

Not fazed by the lack of answers, the cop in him demanded "What Shopping?" he could see the bags of groceries on the floor but that answer seemed way too simplistic for the situation he was in somehow.

"Sure shopping - and _you're_ the supplies!' The man stated gleefully and laughed as though it was the most amusing thing in the world. He carried on whistling gaily like he was out for a summer jaunt to the beach.

Danny had no idea what he meant by that last comment but his mind started working on possible scenarios; people who had grudges against himself; McGarrett; Five-O. He could come up with a hundred possible names but no one who fit the description of the man driving and even then he doubted that such a bizarre set up could have been for his benefit. It was too random. There would have been no way that any of his or McGarrett's enemies would know where Danny would be that morning. His run had been a spur of the moment thing.

That left only one possibility - like he said before – wrong place, wrong time. Danny being picked up _could_ simply have been fate.

_I'm just along for the ride, it could have been any poor sucker; but that sucker was me,_ he thought and was suddenly very scared.

With difficulty Dan looked back over his head to the door latch behind him and to the one in front of his legs and tried to figure out if there was any way he could push the handle down. Rolling out of a car whilst bound hand and foot as the vehicle sped at thirty or more miles an hour wasn't his idea of fun but the alternative possible futures that presented themselves to his imagination weren't all that nice either. As he moved his head vertigo assaulted him, the ceiling of the car spun in circles before coming back to centre and the blood in his eye stung his retina so much that he would have killed to rub it with the back of his hand. For all he knew the retina was actually detached already. _More good news for a Monday morning_, he thought pessimistically.

Roger Cooke had no idea where he was going, he'd never been to Hawaii before and Oahu was a complete mystery to him. The man he was supposed to meet; the one who had engineered his escape from the mainland hadn't contacted him since his arrest and until he had a chance to get the heat off him he couldn't set up a meet. Sure he had helped get him the blade but that was all his contact seemed prepared to do.

Thinking about his victim Cooke knew he shouldn't get sidetracked with this little detour of his but he couldn't help himself. He needed a fix as badly as any heroine junkie and the young man in the back was the goods. Cooke resolved to give himself the day and then move on depending on how close the cops came.

He drove blindly from road to road, always in one general direction but with no real sense of where he would end up. He just knew he needed his fix bad; so bad he could _taste_ it.

In the back of the car Danny relunctantly waited for an opportunity to present itself. Cars had thin walls and he figured he could tell from seeing buildings in the car window when he was in a more populated area. Until then it was pointless trying to attract attention to his plight by shouting himself hoarse, he would only provoke the man into doing something Dan knew he would regret.

Every now and then he spied the man looking at him. There was something bone-chilling about those dark eyes, like a bottomless pit. Cooke stared back at Danny from the rear view mirror as though he was waiting for something, or wanting something. It made Williams shudder.

Before long the car slowed down as they reached an intersection. Leaning up with difficulty Dan saw, to his intense relief and by sheer chance, a police car draw up to the same lights they were stopped at. _Now or never_. He lifted his legs up and banged his feet loudly on the door then started to yell for help at the top of his voice hoping to create enough noise for the cops to look at the car.

Cooke panicked, his victim wasn't exactly the lamb to the slaughter he had hope for. Keeping one eye on the police car he quickly sought the tyre iron which he had dropped on the floor of the passenger seat next to him. He bent down and lifted it up, balancing its weight in one hand whilst trying to maintain his composure.

Danny was still bashing the door hoping maybe the hinges would give way. He opened his mouth to shout again at the top of his lungs but as he did so he saw a flash of something dark slice towards him. More pain and then blackness again.

Abruptly all sound ceased.

The sound of banging and someone yelling had indeed alerted one of the policemen in the patrol car next to the sedan Danny was trapped in. Curious about the noise he checked around him for the source before he finally figured it was coming from the car next to theirs.

He wound down the window.

Nothing, completely quiet save for the sound of the lulled engines and a few noisy birds overhead.

He looked at the woman driving to see if there was any sign of a problem and saw underneath a plain straw hat long hair blowing around her face from the air venting into the vehicle.

When the officer looked directly at him Cooke smiled shyly, just a sideways glance to avoid him seeing his profile and he gave a little feminine wave before mouthing the word Children' to the officer and smiling shyly again as though that was all the explanation that was required. He shrugged his shoulders daintily then pointed to the back seat before accelerating straight through the lights just as they turned green.

The other policeman asked of his partner "What's the problem bruddah?"

"Oh nothing, thought I heard some noise was all. Kids. But that was one ugly dame brrrr!" He mock shivered and then laughed before the car moved on.

In the stolen vehicle ahead and now lying between the back and front seat where he had rolled, Danny was now bleeding from another blow, this time to his temple. In Cooke's anger he determined to punish the man for what he did. Punish him badly.

As the white sedan moved away in front ot the patrol car the cops never noticed the smear of blood that remained on the side door or thought to themselves that the yells they heard were anything but kids misbehaving in the back of their strange mother's car.

They never knew how close they came to saving a fellow officer from a fate worse than death.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

In Steve McGarrett's office Tony Woodfield was just getting started.

"So what brings you to Five-O so early in the morning Doctor Woodfield?" said Steve, retracing his steps to sit behind his desk. "What kind of advice are you offering me?" He looked menacingly at the man who had just taken a seat without being offered one.

"It's related to a case you are currently working on - the Roger Cooke case."

Steve's eyes narrowed as he looked at the psychologist but he gave nothing away, content to let Woodfield do all the talking. "Roger Cooke case?"

Woodfield looked confused "Why yes, Cooke; the killer who escaped this morning. Surely you must…?"

Steve cut him off "Are you working on this _officially_?".

"Ah so you do know which case I'm talking about! Well actually I'm a volunteer…"

"Oh I see, you want to come forward and offer some _advice_ to the police is that correct?" Steve was more than a little sarcastic. He didn't have time for this.

"No, you don't understand. I volunteered my services after Lieutenant Franks called me. He knows me from some of my previous cases. I…er.." he hesistated "I help out."

Steve almost snorted. "You help out' on official police business?"

Woodfield sat up straighter in his chair and shifted uneasily, "Yes. I help the police put together criminal profiles. Surely you know about me?"

McGarrett shook his head and raised an eyebrow "No mister Woodfield. Until you walked in _that_ door this morning" he said, pointing to it "I can assure you I had no idea who you were or even that Franks had someone helping him on _important_ cases." He made a mental note to lay into Franks on that one. "So let's not beat about the bush shall we?" he added menacingly "What advice are you offering Five-O? Oh and please don't expect me to give you information about the case, I'm still not convinced you aren't a reporter coming in here under false pretences to sniff out a scoop."

Tony Woodfield's frank blue eyes stared straight into McGarrett's and his voice rose as he countered "I don't _have_ to help you know. I don't get paid for this – I merely advise the authorities on what some of these criminals are capable of and may I say I don't appreciate your suspicion or tone of voice!"

Steve rose from his desk and pointed a very straight finger at Woodfield "And _I _don't like a civilian coming in here taking up my precious time with some needy little story about being invaluable to the Law. Now get on with it or get _out _sir - I'm a very busy man."

Woodfield calmed down "Okay, okay, truce? We seem to have gotten off on a bad footing."

"You can say that again pal." Steve grit his teeth and eased back into his chair.

The profiler held his hands up in surrender. "I hear the stories about you are true McGarrett…" but the sight of Steve's clenched jaw stopped him from saying more on the subject.

Woodfield turned his attention to the attaché case he had in his lap. He opened it and took out a wedge of papers two inches thick and proffered them to Steve who accepted them without taking his eyes off the man in the seat.

Tony pointed to the papers.

"That is a thesis, of sorts. It's a paper on the minds of serial murderers. Killers like Roger Cooke. I've been collaborating with Franks and the university as well as some of the best criminal psychologists on the mainland and in the UK to put together something which we hope will be of use to the police in trying to catch these particular criminals in the future. It's called profiling. I er…I have information in there that might help you to catch your man; I've even interviewed him a couple of times." He felt more comfortable now and was fluffing his feathers which irritated McGarrett no end. "Actually," Woodfield said "aside from the investigators and lawyers on Cooke's case back in Illinois the only other people who know more about him than I do are the FBI. "

Steve ignored his grandstanding and thumbed through the pages noting the long words and the screeds of reference material together with SOC photos and other documents. It all meant little to him unless he studied it but the photos appeared to be gruesome.

He dropped the papers onto his desk with a thud, causing Woodfield to wince at the noise. "I don't have time to read all this so what's the bottom line on the guy? If you really are here to help what can you tell us that might lead to his capture?"

Woodfield sensed that he was being brought into the case and was eager to set forward some of his theories and knowledge of the serial killer fraternity. He began. "Well, I believe you're aware of his criminal history from the papers or what the Lieutenant said so I won't bore you with elaborate details just set out what his personality is like. I don't know how much you know about what makes a serial killer tick Mister McGarrett?"

"I've been around a bit." Steve said pointedly, "But carry on, I'm intrigued to know what you think."

Woodfield wasn't sure if McGarrett was being serious or not but unperturbed he continued, "Well, there are different types of these criminals – there are those who like the quick kill er..the act-focused if you will; people on missions or that see things or hear voices telling them what to do. Then there are those who are more processed focussed – they like to kill slowly and methodically concentrating on details."

Steve interrupted, "And which is Cooke?"

"Although these catergories are somewhat generalised, Cooke is most definitely the process kind. His victims suffered for days before the coup de grâcewas delivered or they died of their wounds. In general these murderers are split into roughly four brackets," the doctor started counting them off on his digits "you have the comfort hedonist who usually kills for personal gain, then there's the killer who does it for the sexual thrill – lust orientated. There are those who do it purely for the euphoria – the excitement when a victim dies and finally," he tapped his last finger, "you have Cooke's type"

"Go on doctor, I'm just getting interested." McGarrett said encouragingly.

Woodfield nodded "Yes indeed. Well, you see he is what they term a power freak'; a sociopath who loves to dominate his victims, manipulating them and revelling in their misery and suffering. He mostly uses a sharp weapon to carve his victims up which earned him the nickname Cutter' in the papers. In fact he bought into his own PR so much he used to go ballistic in prison when someone called him by his real name. He stabbed a fellow prisoner with a piece of cutlery for that. Nasty business!"

Just then the intercom buzzed, "Excuse me." McGarrett held his hand up for Woodfield to stop talking then pressed the button to answer, "Yes Jenny?"

"Boss someone from HPD phoned to say a woman's purse has been found in a parking lot not too far away from where Cooke escaped."

"Lost property? That's not our jurisdiction. Why get Five-O involved?"

"Because of the blood Steve- lots of it!"

Steve sighed, so now it begins, he thought. "Thanks love, I'll finish up here and talk to them. Let Chin and Kono know to get back right away. By the way, where's Danno? Has he come in yet?"

"No sign of Danny, do you want me to try ringing him again?"

"Yeah, do that would you and as soon as he gets here send him in."

"Will do."

The intercom went dead .

McGarrett turned his attention back to Woodfield. "Well doctor what else have you got for me?"

Woodfield looked from the intercom and back to McGarrett "I don't mean to sound presumptious but that sounds to me like Cooke may have killed someone."

Steve shook his head bluntly "Unknown at the moment, could be anything- could be totally unrelated."

"Well this may have some bearing on that – look at my report on Cooke's only female victim and you will see that when she was found she had been murdered outright, unlike the men. As though Cooke didn't care to toy with her like he did the others. However they did find her clothes in the closet at his apartment and from what they could tell he had worn them."

"He wore her clothes?"

Woodfield nodded. "Precisely."

Steve looked perplexed "You've got to be kidding me?! Is there any explanation for that? What did the psychiatrists have to say?"

The doctor shrugged, "Apparently they couldn't find any explanation. Cooke openly admitted he likes to wear women's clothes sometimes but they were convinced he isn't a transvestite in the traditional sense of the word. It could be something in his background we failed to pick up, something related to his mother or a strong female figure perhaps or it could be something sexual. Perhaps he uses the clothes to lure his victims in. We're just not sure."

McGarrett was stunned; a sadistic murderer who steals and wears women's outfits was someone he had no intention of allowing to roam free on his streets for longer than it took to catch him.

"So what is your advice?"

"My advice, Mister McGarrett, is for anyone to approach this man with extreme caution. I interviewed Roger when they arrested him and several times during his trial. He has no moral compass, he takes pleasure in the pain and humiliation of his victims. He picks young, attractive men out of choice but will not hesistate to kill anyone, male or female who crosses his path. From what Lieutenant Franks told me he is armed and, when armed, Cooke is a force to be reckoned with."

"Do you have any idea what his next move might be?"

"He has been caught, sentenced and escaped. Now he is on the run again however in my opinion I don't believe his first thoughts are to get away."

McGarrett was confused, "I don't understand you doctor, surely he will know there is a manhunt for him? Won't he be looking for a way off the island?"

Woodfield shrugged, "That will be on his mind certainly,but from what I can tell of this man he has distinct needs; he craves power over another human like a drug and he's been cold turkey for the past thirteen months throughout his imprisonment and trial. He may be seeking to overdose before he escapes - and that can only mean one thing."

Steve nodded, understanding the implications of what the psychologist said. "Thank you, that is most helpful. Can I keep this report?" Woodfield agreed. "It seems like I have some reading to do. I want you to come back later and meet my Second –In-Command Dan Williams, he majored in criminal psychology before joining the force and may understand more about this than I do."

"Dan Williams? The same Danno you were just talking about?" Woodfield enquired.

"Yes, he's a Senior Detective with Five-O - do you know him?" Steve asked.

"Sure. Danny came to some lectures of mine, he is a bright young man. I had no idea he worked with you, I would be delighted to liaise with him. You've got a good one there Mister McGarrett, I knew Danny would go far."

"Danno's my best officer. I'll tell him you're on the case. If you are happy to advise us further please make yourself available and my apologies for the rough start." He offered his hand for the doctor to shake and Woodfield accepted it before slipping Steve his calling card.

Woodfield smiled "I understand, and you're most welcome. Contact me at any time. I just hope the woman whose purse they found isn't one of Cooke's victims. If he's started killing again there's no telling what he might do and to whom. If she's missing Mister McGarrett I don't fancy her chances much."

"Neither do I from what you've said Doctor. Thank you again."

Steve ushered the psychologist out and standing in the doorway allowed his mind to wander to the purse and the possibiity than someone had been injured or murdered by Cooke. He tensed.

Chin and the officers from HPD were just arriving for their de-brief. Steve could feel his temper flaring as he looked at them filing into the office. Firstly no one informed Five-O that a high security criminal was on the Island, secondly their completely irresponsible method of transporting the prisoner resulted in the deaths of two officers and then he found out that Franks had been dealing with a criminal psych, on confidential cases behind his back. Someone's head was definitely for the block and McGarrett was going to deliver the blow.

He wondered again where Danny was, feeling like he needed his colleague's advice and his friend's comforting presence. It wasn't like him not to coming running when called.

It was turning out to be a very strange and uncomfortable Monday.

Cooke turned onto the Kalanianaole Highway. The needle on the gas tank reassured him they still had plenty of places they could go, he could travel for miles but he couldn't wait that long.

With Danny out cold Cooke wound his way through the streets with a burning desire to stop. He needed to alleviate the pressure and excitement building up inside him. He felt like a kid in a candy store – with so many ways to start eating so much good candy he didn't know where to begin. Glancing in excitement over his shoulder at the helpless man lying on the floor of the vehicle, he lost concentration and failed to notice that the car was gaining on a cyclist. With a clang of tortured metal the fender grazed the back wheel of a bike and sent the cyclist tumbling sideways onto the sidewalk, shocked and grazed but otherwise unhurt.

Cooke swiftly brought the car back under control and cursed under his breath. One second of carelessness could have cost him his freedom.

From under the pedals of his dented bike. and nursing bruised knees and a scraped elbow, the man stared angrily at the tail lights of the white sedan. He made a mental note of the licence plate number, repeating it over and over until it sank into his memory. He was determined to report the driver for dangerous driving at the first possible opportunity.

Recovering from his lapse in concentration Cooke drove on, turning onto the next side road just in case the cyclist was watching his progress. After a while the number of sections with houses dwindled, the properties becoming less and less frequent until the road finally turned from tarmac to rough dirt track. It looked far more promising to him than the ones he had been driving around on for the last hour. The sun was still baking hot but the shade and the trees were soothing to the escaped killer. He liked the shadows, they were the times when he would sit in his room with his special cigarettes and a glass of bourbon to contemplate his collection of photos. Photos of young men in various states of undress, pain and decay. His quiet time before the evening's fun with whoever, or whatever, he kept in his basement.

When time came for his trial everyone was amazed at what had taken place in his shop. They all said he was a quiet, unassuming tobacco seller who seemed a little strange but no crazed serial killer. But where he lived the street was mostly businesses and everyone went home around five leaving the road to the strays, the garbage floating in the wind - and _him_.

He conducted his pleasure below street level and no one heard a thing. Cooke needed that now – he had to go to ground. If he had a fix he would be ready to take on the cops, or the world and make good his escape.

With the vegetation and shade deepening, Cooke assumed he was driving through some kind of forest or park. He slowed the car right down and bumped it carefully along the dusty track.

After a good mile or so the road narrowed with a steep slope on the left hand side and Cooke saw what looked to be a dead end surrounded by a thicket of trees. He brought the car to a halt.

Pulling on the hand brake he sat back in the leather, closing his eyes for a moment to listen to the sound of bird song and cicadas before he got out of the car to stretch his legs. He hadn't realised until now that he had been running on pure adrenalin and he craved some rest.

The air was warm and heavy with the smell of ginger and frangipane and another, sweeter honey-like aroma that pervaded the air. In the dapple light the floating particles of pollen were so large they could be seen waltzing with each other across the naked eye.

Cooke moved further down the old track while listening to the sound of the car radiator crackling as it cooled down and nature doing what it did best – simply being. He looked up over the treetops on the hillside and saw the ocean like a vast turquoise silk scarf swathed over the horizon beyond and heard the faint sound of waves crashing on the shore far below. It was peaceful and serene and perfect.

He shouted back to the car and its occupant "Hey I think we've found paradise! It's lovely here! It's beautiful, you should see it!"

Danny had been conscious for some time and heard the man shouting for joy. He didn't know where they were but knew had to take the opportunity to try and escape whilst his kidnapper was distracted. Dismissing the pain in his head, Dan wriggled himself up from the leg space using his elbows and concentrated on finding a way to open the car door hoping he could do so before the man returned.

Trying to blink away the blood trickling into his eyes from the wound on his temple, he manoeuvered himself towards the exit. His hands barely reached the handle, fingers numb from lack of circulation but after one or two ineffectual and increasingly frantic attempts, his fingers finally flipped the latch down and he shouldered the door open. The heat hit him like a tidal wave and it took some time for him to orientate himself. Just then the door handle flicked back up with what seemed to him like a very loud click and Danny closed his eyes and stopped breathing, hoping to God that the man hadn't heard it. _Now or never Danny_. He caterpillared out of the side door and straight into the unexpected undergrowth. When he hit the ground it knocked the air out of him but he kept rolling trying to get as far away from the car as he could.

The only way was down and down was a pretty steep slope.

Cooke was so busy taking in the air he hardly heard the breaking of the twigs as Danny gathered momentum and fell, that was until the detective hit the trunk of a tree and yelped inadvertently, unsure if he had broken ribs; then, like a preying mantis sensing its meal, Cooke turned his head in the direction of the sound.

Only the fight or flight instinct kept the Five-O officer going since everything in his body hurt. His vision was slightly impaired from the blow to his cheek and it was hard to gauge his progress. Every inch of his exposed, and not so exposed, body was scratched by twigs or abraded by rocks. He wriggled around the tree and rolled down again hoping that the movement would at the very least loosen his bonds. In reality Danny knew it was pretty hopeless. His best hope lay in someone being around and hearing the commotion, but even then he didn't want another innocent person coming into contact with the madman he was fleeing. He knew the ocean was close by and that any second he could fall to his death over a cliff but perhaps that was preferable to what his kidnapper might have in mind.

Battered and bruised, his T-shirt ripped, Danny kept going until his movement slowed to an abrupt and painful stop. He was at the fence line of some old property and the ground was flat. The downward momentum had caused him to hit the fence with a wallop and his foot became entangled in sharp barbed wire.

Danny struggled to release his foot but it was no good, he couldn't move either his arms or legs properly. The material on his shoes was hooked onto the barbs and he was held tight. Dan tried slipping off his shoe but it wasn't co-operating and the sharp prongs dug into his socks and ankle even more. If that wasn't bad enough, the whole fence rattled, giving away his position. Williams had no idea how close his assailant might be but he was pretty sure it wouldn't be long before he was found.

Above him Cooke had run back to the car and seen the door yawning open. He knew his man was out. Slamming the door shut he cursed himself for his stupidity but remained calm. The murderer peered over the embankment and began scanning the area for his victim amidst ferns, bushes, palm trees and wild flowers. Cook smiled, it wasn't hard to follow him; Williams had crushed a path a six year old could track into the darker valley below.

Eyeing a more gentle slope than the one his victim had taken, Roger Cooke started down a half-hidden dirt track and followed the trussed man's doomed progress with distaste. He winced at the blisters forming on his feet which made it hard to run.

Some way down he reached a natural plateau and Cooke saw a gate with a run-down pig shed and yard connected to a small hut that he figured belonged to a farmer. It looked to have been abandoned long ago and the whole thing was balanced precariously, jutting out over the cliff face and surrounded by weeds and vegetation. The fence and gate were wrapped with badly rusting barbed wire which, once upon a time, kept the doomed porkers from escaping.

Seeing the fence rattle Cooke edged his way along the weed-infested line, careful not to scare his quarry too much but eager to let him know he was on his way. He began to whistle his favourite song, Que sera, sera'.

Dan stopped shock still. His blood went cold. The man was coming for him and Danny wanted no part of it.

Williams began struggling again, desperate to release himself from the wire holding him. His ankle now bled from where it had bitten into his tender flesh, adding to his discomfort.

When Danny saw the man coming towards him, he was terrified. Cooke's ridiculous summer outfit was twirling around him as he whistled and he looked as though he were out picking mushrooms in the Land of Oz.

_He is sick and I am truly in trouble_. _How will anyone find me?_ He brushed aside the thought and tried to concentrate on his training and formulate a plan, but try as he might he could come up with nothing in his background that had prepared him for the ludicrous situation he found himself in. No one told him how to deal with fruit loops.

With a potential murderer marching towards him he was helpless.

"Whatever will be, will be. The future's not our to see. Que sera, sera, What will be will be," Cooke had lapsed into singing as he moved closer and closer. Not a care in the world. It was downright sinister. Dan could see his soulless eyes staring at him as he sang and came closer and closer, the breeze swinging the skirt back and forth, back and forth, as Cooke put one hairy leg in front of the other.

As Cooke reached his victim he stood watching him struggle like a pinned butterfuly and smiled. It was a slow, evil smile that made Dan's blood run cold. Taking the woman's straw hat off the killer crouched down near Danny and fanned himself with it, eyes never moving from the bloodied man.

"What do you want?" Danny asked again although in truth he didn't want to know the answer. "If you're looking for a ransom no one will pay a cent for me, you might as well let me go".

"On the contrary," came the reply as Cooke cocked his head on one side and ran a hand up Danny's arm, "_I_ would pay most handsomely for you. But of course I don't need to do I? Because you're mine already. Struggle some more, I like it." He put the ridiculous hat back on and stood up, casually crossing his arms. His pink tongue poked out of his mouth to lick his lips "I like it _very_ much!"

Danny cringed at the madness evident in the man's voice and wondered, not for the first time, what he was doing loose on the streets, his policeman's sixth sense ringing alarm bells like crazy. He knew him somehow; of that he was sure. Perhaps if _he_ knew him so did Five-0.

_Crazy's the operative word_ Dan said to himself. He decided that if the man was just a delusional escapee from a mental hospital perhaps treating him casually would get him somewhere. He swallowed hard, heart pounding and palms sweating, "Well if you're not going to tell me who you are then at least help me up would you? It's rude to be introduced to someone whilst lying down!"

Cooke stared at him and blinked.

"I seem to be stuck." He added.

The man narrowed his eyes and flashed a row full of uneven teeth "I like to be introduced to people _lying down_ and don't treat me like I'm an idiot, we both know the game here." Came the cold reply and the man growled in his throat like a wild animal.

_Not quite the reply I had expected_ . Thought Dan.

"Okay. My name is Danny…" _When you're in a hostage situation always start negotiating by giving things that grain of truth_. He remembered from training.

"Danny who?'"

J_ust enough truth to put them at ease. _"Danny Walker." No hesitation.

"I knew a Daniel once but he didn't like me very much. So that was the end of him." He said cryptically.

Dan wasn't sure if this was a good thing or not but all things considered he thought it probably wasn't.

Cooke cocked his head on one side like a dog unsure of what his master was saying. He stared for a second or two at Danny and then pointed in the direction of the sheds.

"I think I've found us a temporary home. We're going to be friends Danny. May I call you Danny? I don't think I want to call you Daniel. Too many bad memories."

"Sure, that's my name. I wish I could say it was a pleasure."

"My name is Cutter,"

But before Dan had time to react to this new piece of information Cooke brutally backhanded him across his damaged cheek.

"an_d that's _for running away_." _he added viciously.


	4. Chapter 4

**WARNING**: THINGS ARE ABOUT TO GET MORE GRAPHIC

CHAPTER 4

Uniformed and plain clothes officers filed out of McGarrett's offices with little or no chatter; only Chin Ho stayed behind. After the briefing and dressing down the Five-0 chief gave Franks and the other officers the atmosphere was so thick with guilt he felt they would all resign. He didn't pull his punches and left them with the impression that they were collectively responsible for the death of their fellow officers; a weight of responsibility that made them desperate to get Cooke back into custody as soon as possible. Which was fine by him.

McGarrett felt a twinge of remorse at how harsh he'd been but dismissed it just as quickly as it came, knowing that in this business mistakes cost lives – literally.

He addressed the remaining detective, "What's the news on the woman's purse Chin?"

"Sorry Steve I was waiting until you'd finished picking their bones clean to update you!" He flipped open his notepad. "We checked out the contents of the purse. This was no robbery or mugging; everything was there, no money or credit cards stolen which seems strange in itself." Chin continued, "According to her driver's licence the woman's name is Angela Stefani, twenty-eight years old, legal secretary, single, no history with the police. She lives locally with her sister. We checked her house out, no disturbance and nothing out of the ordinary. Her sister said Angie left early this morning to buy groceries at the store where her bag was found. After that she should have driven to work but never arrived."

"What about local hospitals?"

Chin shook his head, "Nothing – we checked."

"Do we have a description of the car and licence plate?" Steve asked, convinced that this was too much of a coincidence.

"Sure do, it's out on the wire now."

"What do you think Chin? You think this might be connected with our missing killer?"

Chin Ho thought for a moment. "Could be. To be honest Steve I think that much blood loss can only mean one thing - that wahine isn't coming back alive. But I might be wrong; maybe Cooke got the girl _and_ the car."

"I agree. Let's find them. Has someone also spoken to those dead police officer's wives and family?" He asked with a heavy heart.

Chin nodded sadly, "Franks broke the news to them."

"This is a bad Chin. Let's keep a lock down on that prison until we can ascertain precisely who Cooke came into contact with between the time he arrived on this island to the time he was put in that van. He should have been in solitary the whole way. We may have someone on the inside who slipped him that blade and I want the person responsible so badly I can taste it. Get Duke or George to take statements from anyone inside that prison who was connected then I'll check it out personally. I want to know what we're dealing with here."

Chin nodded.

Steve called through the open door, "Jenny?"

McGarrett's secretary responded quickly and came in holding a notepad and pencil. "Yes boss?"

"Get hold of the tv and radio stations. I want a bulletin naming and describing the Angela Stefani with a photo if possible and a description of what she was wearing. We want anyone with information about her or her vehicle to come forward in confidence. Chin will give you the details. I don't want to pull too many crazies out of the woodwork but the situation is serious. I want no mention of Cooke or his criminal record; we don't want to start a panic off just yet."

Jenny nodded.

"Chin get someone to go over Miss Stefani's family history, interview friends, anyone who might be able to give us a lead just in case this is unrelated. I know there's a lot to do so pull in all the help you need and split with Kono when he's back. Have all the store owners been interviewed yet?"

Chin replied "All but one, he was on holiday. The owner of the grocery store recalled her so we know she was definitely there this morning and at roughly what time."

"Good. I want every trooper and available police officer looking for that woman and her vehicle as well as Cooke. Tell Danno when he gets here I want helicopters out and scouring both the area where Cooke was last seen and where that woman was abducted, we can't afford to let this man slip through the net, he's far too dangerous. He has to be looking for a way off this island and that woman might be a hostage but like you Chin, my hunch is she's already dead. "

"Sure thing Steve." Chin said and left with a grim faced Jenny in tow.

Within the hour the radio bulletin turned up a lead on the missing woman.

Mack, figuring on a reward, rang the radio station and told them he'd seen a lady wearing a yellow dress being attacked that morning. Or was she attacking someone? He couldn't be sure but he knew he saw something important. Sure they could take his name and where he saw it happen. No sweat, so long as he got his money.

Thinking that the call might be another hoax, the radio station controller logged the information alongside the other crank calls they'd received following the bulletin and passed it on to the HPD. Realising man had information that hadn't been release to the public or the radio station, a police car was swiftly despatched to the scene to interview Mack.

It didn't take Officer Kalani long to find Angela, dressed only in her underwear, lying in bushes behind some garbage bins – the dead woman's body was barely concealed from public gaze.

The exposed and bloody tendons and unnatural angle of her head made the officer want to throw up but managing not contaminate the scene of crime Kalani kept a clear head as he searched the surrounding area.

At first glance there was not much evidence to go on but a short distance away on the road he spotted a patch of blood that seemed inconsistent with the location of the corpse.

"Kalani to HPD dispatch, come in dispatch."

"Dispatch here go ahead." Came the reply.

"Send a team and coroner to Kuhio Avenue. Body of what appears to be the missing woman Angela Stefani located, no sign of a car."

"Will do, dispatch out."

Placing tapes around the area and posting his car with the lights on to protect the body, Kalani went to find the kid who called it in.

Kalani noted the witness was doped on grass so all he got out of the kid was a garbled statement about a woman in a yellow skirt attacking a man. At first the boy seemed fairly sure, repeating the same thing over and over before questioning himself and getting increasingly confused. The officer recalled that when Mack had first called in he said he saw a woman being attacked by a man and since they had a woman's body and not a man's Kalani figured the boy was confused thanks to the drugs and wrote it up the other way round.

It took Cooke a while to disentangle Danny's inert body from the fence, the barbs hampering his progress. Several times he cut himself but didn't seem to mind, savouring the deliciously warm iron taste as he sucked his fingers.

Eventually he pulled the man free and hefting him over his shoulder took his prize inside to see what his lair looked like. When he saw the bed he started laughing.

When Danny Williams returned to gradual consciousness he was inside the farmer's hut lying on his back on a disgusting smelling mattress. The bed was a rusty iron one and creaked so loudly that Dan was sure it couldn't take the weight of a rooster let alone a man his size.

He tasted blood in his mouth but his hands weren't free for him to check the extent of this new damage. Danny automatically looked up at the streams of sunlight stealing their way through the holes in the cobweb-strewn roof like cat burglars and tried to calm the rising panic in his chest.

It all seemed so unreal and although he still had bloody vision in one eye Cutter, he assumed, had cleaned away some of the blood from his head injury so he could see a bit better than before. Now he could finally concentrate on the reality of his position he realised he was very scared. His hands and feet had been re-tied – this time with half the stockings on his wrists which were pulled up above him to the bed head and half tying his ankles to the base of the frame so he was semi spread-eagled. He could feel the blood coursing back through his numbed limbs but it hurt. It all hurt. Danny still had no idea what he was doing there or what the man wanted with him but he knew one thing; he was extremely vulnerable and in danger.

He tried to pull his body up as much as he could from the greasy bed beneath his bare legs but it was too difficult and his ribs hurt from where he had bashed himself on the tree trunk. He eventually gave up, snearing in disgust.

Dan leaned his head up and scanned the small space for his kidnapper. The room consisted of very little; the bed, a few upturned vegetable boxes, an old table, a couple of rusty buckets and shelving containing nothing but cob-webbed glass jars and a dusty mirror. There was also a makeshift stove and a wooden cabinet with work surface, above which a hole had been cut like a window in the side wall and covered with a filthy piece of canvas. The material was half-hanging from a couple of nails letting dappled light into the shed.

'Cutter' sat in the shadows opposite the bed on an old fruit box and was quietly playing with something in his hands – something that glinted in the rays of stolen light and set Dan's nerves on edge. It was a blade and looked to be razor sharp. Danny swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat and shifted, testing his bonds again.

Cooke raised his skirt up over a leg, showing a pair of rolled up bright blue trousers underneath.Danny was pretty sure he recognised prison material when he saw it. He'd been to Halawa prison enough times to recall the distinctive texture and colouring. _That explains a lot_ . He thought miserably.

Cutter sensed he was being watched and with a smile reached down into a ray of sunlight to wipe the blade on the overalls until it was clean.

Danny was fascinated and revolted at the same time; it was a steel blade about two inches long with a curved cutting edge and a flat back that looked like a surgical scalpel. The tethered man started to wonder just what might be in store for him, this new twist lending a macabre perspective to his situation. _Armed and very dangerous. How the hell did he get that? Calm Danno, just keep calm and be sensible_. He kept trying to hear Steve's voice in his head. _What would Steve do? Steve's going to find me. I'm alone here with a nutter. Not again! This time I might just die._

"Pretty yes?" said Cutter holding the blade to the light and twisting it like a diamond. He was like a child offering to show his friend a new toy or an exotic caterpillar he'd found in a field.

"_No!_" said his victim emphatically.

"You have no idea how much you will come to hate this Danny" he twirled the blade and then polished it once more on the sleeve of the woman's blouse "I'm going to use this on you. We are going to get intimately acquainted you and I. I wish we had time to become friends but this," he stepped towards Danny and brought the blade to within an inch of the young man's face, "will bring us closer together."

His insides turned to water and he froze, unsure what the mad man was going to do next. Williams had a pretty good idea of what this all meant for him – he had withstood a lot in his career both before and during the police force; mental and physical pain, but this time he didn't know if he could withstand what this man so obviously had in store for him. _Steve, Kono, Chin – now would be good_.

You're crazy Cutter!' he said without thinking. It was a stupid thing to say and as soon as it was out of his mouth he bitterly regretted it.

Cutter's eyes became hooded and he pulled the blade back and started shrieking, CRAZY!? Are you calling me _Crazy_?!' He moved back towards him menacingly, calf trickling blood from a row of small puncture wounds, the red streaks ambling down into the shoe. The yellow women's shoe. _Surreal, completely surreal_ Dan thought. He felt like he was in some kind of horror movie tripping on dope and unable to get out of the nightmare he'd created.

Is _this_ crazy you BASTARD?!!!' He shouted at his victim and sliced across the underside of Danny's left forearm with the scalpel blade. Danny yelled. The wound was across the muscle and stung like crazy even if it wasn't that deep. Blood oozed out of the cut. Even through he was in pain Dan reacted swiftly. He leaned forward with as much speed as he could and just about succeeded in head-butting Cooke as he leaned over him.

Danny's head hurt so much it was making his mind fuzzy and he could have done without the extra concussive effect of what he had just done, but the pain in his skull and the bruises and lacerations he had incurred on his roll down the hill were so small compared with what this man appeared to be capable of. He wouldn't get second chances.

But Cutter didn't fall as Danny had hoped, he just rocked on his feet and his eyes went cold, colder than before if that was possible. Danny could see that the head butting had dazed him somewhat, dazed them both, but not enough to stop him taking whatever next step he was going to. It was then that Danny noticed the blood across the front of the shirt the man wore – like a necklace of rubies - and he couldn't understand why he hadn't seen it before then he saw the scarf draped over Cutter's neck that had become untied in their tussling.

Williams understood now how the clothes Cutter was wearing had come to be.

"Ow!" was all Cooke said belatedly, as though the pain had taken time to find its way to his brain.

"What have you done with the woman you stole those clothes from?" Danny asked -furious that someone else might have been hurt by this bastard. _Pupule Danno don't goad him._ Steve's voice warned inside his head.

"_**I**_ am the one who's running this _Danny_, I ask the questions. What does it matter what happened to her? She had pretty clothes and a car and I wanted them so I took them. When I go shopping I _always_ get what I want." He stated mechanically.

Danny was trembling with pent up anger. "You killed her," It was not a question but a statement "you took a life away. What had she done to you?!"

Cooke seemed agitated "It's irrelevant, it doesn't matter. If I hadn't done that we wouldn't be together Danny don't you see? I needed a car and some clothes to find someone like you," Dan's mouth went dry not wanting to know what _that_ meant. He had learned one piece of information though – Cutter picking him up was a random act. Danny felt he could almost relax knowing that it wasn't a personal vendetta. Up until now he harboured a suspicion that someone from his or Steve's past wanted to kidnap him. _At least that means he won't be after McGarrett or my friends – Lizzie_…he thought guiltily. Small comfort under the circumstances.

Cutter's gaze was unwavering. "You did such a noble thing Danny, coming to the aid of a damsel in distress. I like you for that and I can't wait for us to get to know each other better - it's been so long since I've had a chance to work with anyone." He paused as if gathering momentum and anger crept into his eyes again as the barely concealed fury gave vent as surely as a building volcano. His face screwed up in hate and he bared his teeth. "But I _can't_ let your remarks go unpunished can I? What kind of a friend would I be?"

Danny cringed. _Oh God here it comes_!

With that Cooke grabbed onto the side of the bed making it rock dangerously and lifting one knee he knelt straight down on his victim's chest making Dan's bruised ribs creak and then he put his other knee on Danny's groin pressing his kneecap down until his victim screamed out in agony - unable to move. With scalpel held high Cutter swiftly bent down to Danny's already wounded arm and, with a deftness even Danny found it hard to fault, he slipped the scalpel under the open wound and sliced away a strip of skin about an inch across and several inches long completely through the epidermis. Like peeling an orange. Danny yelled until he was hoarse and bucked under his torturer; the fire in his arm sending fiery agony into his armpit.

"Stop wriggling you hear me!!" Cooke yelled at him and lifting the scalpel he stabbed him straight in the flesh between his clavicle and shoulder muscle several times over until Danny finally stopped moving, his lesson learned. Maintaining his balance on his shocked and agonised victim, and with the grace of an acrobat on a see-saw, Cutter pulled the wet strip of Danny's skin up roughly and completed the rectangle with a deft slice of a blade. Danno pulled so hard he almost dislocated both shoulders.

Cooke eased off the wounded man who writhed in agony on the bed; arm and shoulder a bloody mess.

Through pain-filled eyes Danny had time to watch as Cutter held his trophy high above him and studied the drips of Dan's blood dribbling down the sides. Then Cutter's tongue flicked out and he could watch no more.

"Penny for your thoughts." Danny Williams turned to his lover as she floated out onto the lanai with the grace of a cat and put her arm around his shoulder. The night was perfect; a warm breeze glancing off the inky water and the sound of the surf soothing them; in the distance they could hear the cicadas flicking their wings as they made their nightly song. Dan pointed to the sky and the moon as the earth's shadow slowly engulfed it. It was the lunar eclipse and he had never seen one so rare. With few lights around and just the velvety blackness of the sea before them with just as shadow of moonlight, it seemed the satelllite was turning gold to red – blood moon – a very special time. He and Elizabeth had forgotten that the eclipse was tonight. They were so wrapped up in each other the time had slipped away with no other thoughts than themselves.

_Danny rubbed her shoulder as she leaned her head on him, soft hair brushing his nakedness. "I was just thinking about how lucky we are. The goddess Hina is making love to Ku god of the sun." He paused and assessed the woman frankly, "You are so beautiful."' he whispered gently to her then leaned in to brush her lips with his. _

_Returning his kiss she asked "Tell me more Danny, I like it when you talk about the islands." Her fingers stroked along the muscles of his back, comforting him._

_He smiled, enjoying their intimacy "At night when Ka Aina, the land meets Ka Moana, the sea and Ka Lani, the sky - the moon rises on the horizon and Hina bathes us in her glow. Hawaiians believe that she beats cloth on a long rock you can see out there on the horizon. She is said to have fought with her husband and returned to the moon where she watches us today as both a human and a goddess; which is what I think you are Lizzie." He added with sincerity._

_Lizzie stroked his arm softly, "Do you know how special you are Dan Williams? I think I'm falling in love…"_

Cold fingers stroking across him.

"You are special…"

Fingers still stroking him. Fingers. Whose fingers?_ Lizzie?'_

He came to with a start, recalling the pain and realised he must have fainted. Danny had thought he was back; safe at Elizabeth's house with the beach and the moonlight. Just a dream…the detective was crushingly disappointed.

Then he saw the man touching him.

Cutter was stroking him, he had pushed up his t-shirt and was making lazy circles on his stomach with a sharp fingernail whilst he was unconscious. He tried to move away, scorched by a scorpion's touch but as he moved the nerve endings awoke sending agonising messages from every part of his body; his arm was on fire, his hip was on fire, his shoulder, his head. Cutter laughed as his young victim tried to pull away from him.

"Bonds too tight?" Cutter enquired genially. "You passed out which is no fun so I started without you!" he said and winked.

Unsure what Cooke meant by that, Danny took stock of himself and noticed to his horror that the button and fly on his shorts were undone and his underwear pushed low over his hips. His mouth went dry. _Surely he would remember that? He would have woken up. Wouldn't he?_ Perspiration beaded on his forehead and he started to shake. He felt warm and feverish.

Fearing the worst, he was almost relieved when he noticed blood on the fleshy part of his hip and lifting his head he saw a row of what looked like bloody XXX marks along his hip bone. Having been recognised, those nerve endings checked in with his brain and Danny felt the force of their message all too clearly.

He had been carved.

"They're kisses, for you" Cutter stated simply. Danny just stared at him, blinking away his confusion; utterly lost for words.

"I can see you're unsure." He said casually. "Okay, not really kisses, more of a trade mark thing with me, I so abhor tattooing although branding one's property always appealed. Today I just couldn't seem to find a match!" He gave a sinister chuckle.

Danny continued to stare as his captor, eyes wide and wondering when this madness would end. He had no doubt that the man was very sick in the head and remembering all too clearly what happened the last time he riled him he weighed up the options of what he should say or do next.

His hip was agonisingly painful - _so chalk that up to the list, _he thought as he mentally catalogued all the aches, bruises and wounds he received in just one morning. _Steve you have got to come get me. Do you even know I'm gone? _

When Danny had been shot and taken captive by an amnesiac war hero that had received a bump to the head from a kid's baseball bat, he had the option to take out the man with his gun but couldn't – the man was deluded but innocent and Danny had been wounded by accident. Dan knew now that were the situation to repeat itself here he wouldn't hesitate to put a bullet in Cutter. _Like a rabid dog_ he thought. _No hesitation. _

"So Danny Boy, where shall we go next." Cooke's fingers wiggled over him, the blade tucked between them. "I feel like taking all the soft-centres first," he said as though Danny were a box of candies. Cutter slid his hands down Danny's legs, appraising him and trying to decide what he should do next. His eyes came to rest on Williams' feet and Cooke reached up, blade in one hand, ready to strike like The Ripper.

_Where's a Corpsman and a helicopter when you need one?_ Danny thought as Cooke stabbed him straight through the bottom of one shoe and his big toe. The scream that ripped from his throat was pitiful and shocking, but not to Cutter as the killer bent to his pleasure and began to whistle once more.


	5. Chapter 5

CHAPTER 5 : WARNING contains graphic violence 

Chin Ho Kelly took the stairs two at a time and practically flew into the Five-0 offices without even acknowledging Jenny who stood up to greet him as he made his way to McGarrett's room; both knocking and opening the door at the same time in his haste.

Steve's heart began racing as he saw look on Chin's face and immediately told the caller he was on to, "I'll ring you back something has come up".

Both Kono and Jenny weren't far behind, disturbed by the swiftness with which the detective entered.

Chin puffed and tried to get his breath back, "Just got back from lab. Che Fong ran the blood at that crime scene Steve. You're not going to like it!"

Standing up McGarrett moved from behind the desk, "Stefani's blood?" he inquired.

Chin just hoped they were wrong, "No Steve – we think it could be Danny's!"

Blood drained from Steve's face and he heard Jenny gasp.

"Danno's blood?" Steve said confused, "How on earth did his blood get there!"

"Don't know, looks like there may have been a bit of a tussle at the scene but the lab boys aren't sure. They checked the blood type against the woman's hospital records – not hers so they ran it through the computer to see if anyone else came up and a flag came up on Danno's name, it's his blood type recorded from when he was shot at Castle Hospital but we can't swear to it."

"Surely that's a coincidence; there have to be plenty of people with the same blood type." McGarrett was trying to reassure himself as much as anything. "How much blood Chin?"

"Not much, whatever the wound it isn't life-threatening, of course we don't know any more, just that it was pretty fresh, definitely this morning. Che says Danno has a pretty uncommon type so we thought you should know straight away. What with Danny not being here and…well it just seemed like too much of a coincence…" he trailed off.

Realisation hit McGarrett and he turned accusingly toward Kono before growling "Where is Danno? _You_ were supposed to get hold of him this morning Kono. Why didn't you tell me you couldn't find him!"

Kalakua looked suitably distressed, caught on the back foot, "I did call into the office this morning after I went to find him at his girlfriend's place but no one was there. Then I headed to the airport to meet the Marshall."

Seeing Kono was flustered Jenny added, "That's true boss Kono did go round to Elizabeth Grant's – that's Dan's girlfriend's place – and he rang the office, one of the other secretaries took the message and I got it not long ago so I haven't had the chance to…well she should have…or I should have…" She too stopped talking seeing it made no difference to McGarrett.

Steve grit his teeth, anxiety making him unusually terse with his employees "I don't care _who_ should have done _what_, we need to find Danny and clear this up." He turned to Kono again. "Wasn't the girlfriend there or _any_ sign of Danny at all? Tell me Kono I need the facts. Do we think this woman is missing too?"

Kono was sweating under his boss' gaze. "When I went round to the back of the house someone had left the lanai doors unlocked so I called out and went in. There was just one coffee mug out and the kettle had been left to boil dry. It looked like Danno had been there all right – there were some of his clothes around the place, and an overnight bag I think, but no sign of him or the wahine. It didn't occur to me to check anything else at the time."

"Where is Miss Grant's apartment?" Steve asked.

"Kuhio Beach Park near Waikiki." Kono supplied.

Steve felt sick "Kuhio?" he asked with trepidation, knowing he was right but needing to check nevertheless.

"Sure boss. Why?"

"Chin hand me that map," McGarrett said pointing to a fold-up map of the islands on the table opposite. Chin did so and Steve swiftly unfolded it across the desk and traced down to Waikiki and the surrounding roads. "Here it is." The knot in his stomach had just become a barrel-full of worry. "Oh God." He said quietly.

"What's the matter Steve?" Chin asked.

McGarrett looked at the anxious faces – all waiting expectantly, he stabbed a finger down on the paper at the spot he had found. "I thought I recognised the name. Kuhio Beach Park is just a couple of roads away from where the woman's body was found dumped….on Kuhio Avenue."

They all knew the possible implications, but hoped it still wasn't true.

Steve banged his clenched fist on the desk so hard it made his pencil pot and lamp bounce. "And you didn't think that was important Kono? It's your _job_ to figure these things out, you're a cop!"

Chin had to say something, "Take it easy Steve. It isn't Kono's fault, he didn't know where Danny might be; could have been anywhere and we only just found where the woman's body was dumped. Kono didn't even know the location. We still may be losing our cool for nothing bruddah."

Kono looked crestfallen, "Sorry boss I should have called it. You're right – I had a hunch something was wrong at the time but with all this going on I didn't do anything about it, I just couldn't figure out what it could be. I should have followed through."

Steve looked deadly serious, "Let's hope we are losing our cool for nothing, but I for one would like an explanation as to how a cop's blood ended up at a crime scene. If anything's happened to Danno or his girlfriend I _won't_ be responsible for my actions and you can take that to the bank!"

Jenny only ever saw her boss this worked up when his men were involved and Danny was the closest to Steve. Williams was the same whenever McGarrett was in trouble; they were like two peas in a pod. She hoped for the sake of whomever or whatever had hurt Danny that they got out of McGarrett's way fast because when Steve caught up with them their life wouldn't be worth living – especially if Danno was badly harmed.

"Has anyone tried to locate his girlfriend?" Steve said - somewhat more in control than before but still worried beyond rage. "Elizabeth Grant – have you contacted her work place in case she is there and knows what happened, or are we assuming that she and Danny are together? We don't want another victim or victim_s_on our hands in this god-awful mess, we need to know what we're dealing with here."

"I'll get on it now Steve." Kono said hoping to make up for his lack of action before and turned to leave.

McGarrett stopped him briefly "Hang on, I want every square inch of that crime scene gone over with a fine tooth comb and then I want it done again. I want it checked for any sign that Danny was there, even one hair from his head and I want to know if there's the slightest chance his blood could be there for another reason. I want it done fast."

"Okay boss." The big Hawaiian left the room, knowing that if anything bad had happened to Danny McGarrett would never forgive him.

"Jenny, get me the Governor. We're long overdue to brief him about what's going on here. I have a feeling this whole thing has just started."

"Sure Steve."

Steve turned to look out of the window. The breeze washed over the palms on his lanai making them sway gently but he felt anything but relaxed. He rubbed his face and suddenly felt very tired. Without turning he addressed the last person in the room, "Chin we need to figure out where this guy is going. Get a map on the board and we'll plot what we know so far. Maybe we can predict which direction he's headed in," he paused before adding, "I feel like we've been lagging behind on this one – never mind the cock-up from HPD. I need Danno here …" his words trailed off.

Chin came up behind his friend, "Steve" he said gently. McGarrett turned around, brow furrowed with concern. "Don't worry about Danny. It could still be a coincidence, maybe he fell over that morning, hit his head or something and it's got nothing to do with Cooke."

Steve cocked his head, "You don't really believe in that many coincidences do you Chin? A first rate cop wouldn't let anything suspicious, especially if he witnessed someone dumping a body, get past him; Danno is likely to have taken action. That combined with what could be his blood and the proximity to where he was staying – do you _really_ think he's okay?"

Chin smiled sadly, "No, but it was worth a shot to make you feel better. I'll check the hospitals and the morgue."

Steve patted his arm in gratitude. "You do that, also get an APB out on Danny and his girlfriend and pray that Cooke doesn't have them."

"Consider it done boss. Danno will turn up, I know he will."

Steve wished he felt reassured by that but somehow he wasn't so sure "Mahalo my friend."

But Steve's mind kept wandering back to the SOC photographs that Woodfield showed him. The photos of naked young men – some unrecognisable from the hideous wounds inflicted on their bodies. He may have only glanced at them earlier but that didn't mean he wouldn't have nightmares about them for years to come.

He turned back to the window, "Be safe aikane, be safe Danno."

&&&&&&

Danny had been drifting in and out of consciousness; partly the fault of the head wounds and partly the shock of his other injuries. The cotton wool feeling in his brain protected him slightly from the nerve endings all vying for attention. He knew he had been stabbed again, at least once, from what he recalled but he was no longer capable of knowing where. Someone was singing and it was off key.

"_When I was just a little boy I asked my mother what shall I be? Shall I be handsome, shall I be rich and here's what she said to me…"_

There was something so twisted and bizarre about seeing a grown man armed with a scalpel, dressed in a woman's blood encrusted outfit singing a Doris Day song that Williams felt like laughing. Either that or he was having one hell of an odd nightmare again.

But you don't feel real pain in nightmares and the pain in his cheek and arm as he drifted back to wakefulness, was enough to inform Danny that he wasn't in any soft bed dreaming of a musical horror movie. The restraints wound tightly around his wrists and ankles brought reality snapping at his heels. One foot throbbed mercilessly.

Cutter turned on his dainty shoes and moved menacingly towards his victim like Elmer Fudd creeping up on Bugs Bunny.

"_Que sera, sera,"_ he sang as he tip-toed towards Danny, _"whatever will be, will be…."_ Then all the humour bled out of him and he stopped singing to stare down at the man on the bed, his gaze fixed and otherworldly.

Danny tried to force his bad eye to focus but failed. To Danny, Cutter's silence was almost more terrifying than the singing. It made him –_unpredictable_.

"What did she say to me Danny, any guesses?"

Danny shuddered. He had no intention of answering the man who had kidnapped and tormented him. Cutter was off in a world of his own making. "Party pooper. Anyway _Danny_ what my mother actually said to me was '_you're a dirty little bastard Roger Cooke and I wish you had died and not your sister_'. Nice eh? You can tell she _loved_ me." Cooke seemed strangely affected by that; the first sign of humanity that Danny would have spotted had he not been preoccupied.

_Roger Cooke. Roger Cooke! _Danny's stomach lurched. He knew that name. He didn't understand the Cutter reference until now but in that instant Danny knew he was in mortal danger, any thoughts this was a bad game that would end soon were forgotten. This had to be the same Roger Cooke that he had read about in the papers and the inter-office bulletins; but how did he get there? '_Cutter'_ Cooke was a serial killer with a penchant for torturing and murdering young men…and Danny was his next victim. _Oh God help me!_ He thought desperately.

Cooke leaned further down towards Danny, pulling at his hair, fingering the wound on his temple and running thick fingers down either side of his face. The man's foetid breath washed over the Williams as he lay beneath him. Danny tried hard to push himself further into the mattress as if he could drop through it to the relative safety of the floor beneath. He was shaking, unclear about what the man wanted with him but now with an gut wrenching feeling that he knew what the next hours would bring. He didn't understand how Cooke had come to be there, on his island. He understood less of how a madman dressed in women's clothing could be allowed to roam free but he needed to remain calm. He was utterly terrified but hoped it wouldn't show on the outside.

Chances were that Five-0 or the FBI were already looking for him. Which would mean Steve was looking for Cooke too. So far as Danny remembered the man was appealing a death sentence.

_Cool Danno just keep cool - _Steve's words again in his head. He wished his friend was there with him, or Kono or Chin – anyone but being alone with this _creature_.

Although he had majored in criminal psychology at university, the discipline was a growing science and the sheer reality of being thrust into a live situation with a killer of Cooke's stature robbed Danny of any of his former knowledge. He knew he had to try and establish a relationship with him to make Cooke see him as a human being but he also knew that serial offenders like him cared little for the feelings of anything – particularly their victims. He thought perhaps he should try some role reversal on him, if necessary empathise with the desires the man had but was fairly sure it wouldn't work. He needed to keep going if he was to survive whatever would come next.

Danny couldn't see a way out unless he was found. From what he recalled no witnesses came forward when Cooke was on trial. No witnesses equalled no survivors.

What could he say? How could he get on an emotional footing with the man; someone whose feelings and fantasies were totally alien to Williams? After considering for a few moments he swallowed dryly before venturing, "So how did you lose your sister Roger?" Danny's injured face made it hard to talk coherently but he knew from the shocked look on Cooke's face he had heard him correctly and then he instantly regretted opening his mouth. The mask of anger slipped over the killer's face again and he was well aware that he had made a deadly mistake. Without warning, Danny's curiosity was rewarded by a vicious downward slash of the knife.

Danny screamed like he had never screamed before as the small operating blade sliced an opening across his left thigh. Excruciating pain lanced up his leg. It was like the bloody wounds to his arm and shoulder. He was trying to tune out the pain and forget it but feeling it again it was like nothing he'd ever felt before. Sweat broke out on his forehead. His stomach lurched violently.

"Cutter!" Cooke yelled at him and slashed him again.

"My name is Cutter, Cutter, _CUTTER_!".

One, two, three more slashes.

The agony was unbelievable. Surgery without medication and medieval torture combined. The wounds were shallow, the size of the blade ensuring the injuries were not in themselves life threatening but they hurt like hell and rich blood spurted from each successive gash, soaking through the already damp mattress. If Cooke hit an artery he was dead meat.

Dan couldn't help it, he turned his head and threw up - barely avoiding Cooke's skirt. His now empty stomach heaved as he dry-retched. It was only then that he begged, his eyes tearing up, the pain unbearable, "Stop! Cutter – please - please stop!"

The monster before him was reeling from his outburst but somehow Danny's pleading forced through the attack. Cooke wiped a hand - red with Dan's blood - across his forehead, pushing the long hair, wet and sweaty from his labours off his face and leaving streaks of Dan's blood in its wake.

Both victim and assailant were panting heavily, Danny's whole body shaking as his diaphragm somersaulted. Cooke's frenzy appearing to have waned, if only temporarily. Dan tried to get his urge to be sick under control or risk hyperventilating on top of everything else.

Cooke spat at his face, "That's right Danny boy - Cutter is my name. Cutter and don't you forget it," He then put a hand up to the side of his mouth in an oddly theatrical manner as he whispered "and I'll let you in on a secret."

Danny could hardly see Cooke for the tears leaking from his eyes.

"They call me Cutter because I like to cut things!" Cooke laughed maniacally and scraped the gore-laden blade against one of Danny's open wounds shaving off more skin.

Dan sobbed once pulling at the restraints and making the nylon bite even more deeply into his flesh. '_I will die here. Steve will never find me and I will never see Lizzie again.' _He thought.

Just when he believed the end might come Cooke stood upright and said, with all the courtesy of a butler offering his master a Martini, "Are you thirsty Danny? Would you like something to drink? You look parched and perhaps a break would do us good. "

Dan blinked away the salty tears and couldn't help himself. He laughed and laughed and only stopped laughing when Cooke slapped him which brought him back from the brink of hysteria.

"Do you want something to drink or not?"

God he was thirsty; hot, tired, in pain and very, very thirsty. He hated admitting his helplessness but he needed to keep going. Keep going until Steve and the others found him. Or, he admitted to himself, as long as he could before he was slaughtered. His pride had to come last.

He croaked, "Yes."

Cutter looked angry again,"Yes _what_ Danny?

"Yes, yes please." He said through gritted teeth.

"That's better, don't want to be rude to each other do we?" He leaned over the bed and Dan flinched involuntarily, ashamed at his cowardice but unable to control himself.

Cooke sniggered, revelling in the feeling of power. He tested his prisoner's bonds again and Danny grimaced as the wounds on his arms and legs complained at the rough treatment.

"There's a good lad. Shan't be long."

Cooke turned to leave the hut but on the threshold stopped and swivelled his head over his shoulder to look back at Danny.

The look of pure evil in those shaded eyes left Williams in no doubt that he had been privy to the same expression Jack the Ripper must have levelled at his victims before shredding them to pieces. A man steeped in madness.

Cooke smiled, showing a row of uneven teeth. "Oh and Danny if you try to escape whilst I'm gone I will find you and I _will_ flay the skin off your bones whilst you watch." With that he was out of the door as dramatically as any moustachioed villain in a silent movie.

As he heard the steps recede Danny let out the breath he didn't know he was holding. He was terrified and shivering uncontrollably from weakness, he also knew he'd lost too much blood as he was light headed and kiddy. He wondered how much more torture he could bear. He got the impression Cooke had only just started toying with him, like a cat playing with a mouse until it gets bored and then _whack_!

Despite the pain and the warning, Williams frantically pulled at his bonds, hoping to break one of the rusty bed heads but his strength was fading and he knew it. He desperately pulled and pulled and pulled.

Any minute Cutter would be back and the games would begin again. He thrashed his body up and down on the bed but nothing gave - no sign of movement barring the rattle of the rickety iron. No Thanksgiving turkey could be trussed as well as he had been.

Reluctantly and because the agony was too great, he gave up and decided to focus his attention on his surroundings and what little he remembered of Cooke's case so he could perhaps keep his captor talking in an attempt to keep him from damaging him any more.

Perhaps by then Steve would be there. Dear God he hoped so, he was so thirsty.

&&&&&

As Cooke made his way back up the hillside away he caught the woman's skirt on a wild rose and as he hastily pulled it tore a piece off and swore.

He continued on his way, licking his lips and recalling the games with his feisty victim. He felt there was something that differentiated Danny from the others he had tortured but he just couldn't pin-point what it was. The young man seemed far too cool compared to them. Cooke thought with pleasure about the blue eyes and the tears as Danny Wallker had pleaded but he was not desperate enough in spite of what he had been through. Cutter was determined to change that. In his head he replayed Danny's screams as he slashed him and felt a warm stirring in his loins. _Maybe later_ he thought and continued back to car in the hope of finding something to drink.


	6. Chapter 6

CHAPTER 6

WARNING: This chapter contains graphic descriptions of a serial killer at work, you have been warned.

Whilst Cooke went back to the car, Danny tried to calculate how long he had been in captivity but found it hard to tell from the periods of unconsciousness and the fuzziness in his head; his only clue rays of sunshine shifting around the hut illuminating the dereliction and cobwebs. Much of what he had been through since his run that morning was merely a blur of pain.

He _thought_ it was probably early afternoon but wasn't sure. Whatever time it was it felt like a lifetime and that his whole wonderful weekend together with Lizzie was just dust and faded memories. Likewise he found it hard to recall small things; the inside of the Iolani Palace, his desk, Aunt Clara's smile or the touch of McGarrett's hand on his shoulder.

His bonds wouldn't give way - no matter how hard he tried, and he knew he would have to content himself with the knowledge that he was stuck there until the end game – whatever that was. Danny floated on his thoughts, fly trapped on paper, heavy eyelids closing and opening as the pain shifted from nerve to nerve. He wondered whether it had been the same for the others – Cooke's previous victims - and suddenly felt an overwhelming sense of empathy with them , like they had become brothers in agony. He needed to know their names, their stories and what became of their poor, abused bodies. It was very important somehow – like a family he had never known.

He was hot and cold at the same time and started to drift as flies buzzed around his wounds landing on his legs and arms, their tiny feet tickled the hairs on his bare skin. He hardly noticed their intrusion as he stared up into the sunbeams and thought of all that could have been.

It took his breath away to think of how much he would miss when he was gone. Just hours ago the most important concern on his mind was whether or not he would push away Lizzie; one of the few people in this life who genuinely cared for him and now that decision was probably made for him anyway. Too late. Life was so precious.

How selfish he had been.

It was because of Jane. Remembering her was physically painful. Sweet, lovely Jane. And now he was on the brink of joining her. That wasn't so bad. Strange to think how she had been the victim of someone similar to Cutter. He was so very glad her killer hadn't been Cooke – Danny didn't think he would have survived the knowledge of this kind of suffering inflicted on someone he loved so deeply. He carried her around with him always. No matter how hard he tried to appear normal a piece of him had died the day they found her and he never stopped caring, stopped loving.

He had spent hours on his own after she died just imagining her soft face, the colour of her eyes and the smile, that beautiful smile that warmed his heart. He had sat on the floor next to the bed where they had slept together with his hand just reaching up touching her side of it and thought of the years they would never get to spend now she was gone. He imagined their children's names and their faces, thought how they would go fishing together and picnicking under the trees and grow old in each others arms. Gone now, all gone.

And now he felt just as anxious because as the days went by Danny started losing sight of her; he tried to hold on to those pictures and memories of their time together and he just couldn't. His internal photograph was slowly being etched away; erased line by line until one day he knew he would forget her face completely. Perhaps then he would be healed.

There were others who cared about him. Steve, Chin Ho and Kono. Others in Five-0, his dear Aunt Clara and friends he had made over the years and of course there was Lizzie.

But of all of them it was Steve he knew would suffer most. McGarrett would be sad but stoic - as always, he would bring Cooke to justice – as always - and then, when the furore died down and there was no one left to work his anger out on Steve would internalise it and whatever ridiculous and unwarranted guilt he would put on himself for Danny's death would start eating away at him, bit but bit until it ruined him. Then, with so few close people in Steve's life to bring some sense into the picture for him and shake him out of his guilt, Steve would become bitter and twisted and irrevocably scarred.

Danny hated to think that would happen just because of him, but he knew their guarded public relationship over the years was a cover for a deeper bond between them. Danny knew because that would be how _he_ would deal with Steve's death if the roles were reversed. He couldn't bear it – to lose his closest friend would kill him – slowly but surely.

What a pointless death he was going to have; whether it be today, tomorrow or whenever that monster Cooke stopped playing with him. Not a worthy death, just used up and thrown away like garbage. Another statistic in some crime journal somewhere. Read the headlines - 'Danny Williams Five-0 Cop Becomes Serial Killer's Final Victim'.

He knew he would be the last because Steve McGarrett would hunt Cooke down to the ends of the earth - and then what? What would Steve do to avenge the death of a friend? He dreaded to think and sent a silent prayer to his brother not to jeopardise his life and liberty for the sake of one man.

As much as he would have liked to, Danny had never sought revenge on the man who had killed Jane. He knew that justice would prevail and as an Officer of the Law he had to let it take its course. But if he had been a civilian, if he hadn't truly believed in what was right and what was wrong, perhaps he would have taken the path he felt Steve might take when Danny died. He could become Mr Hyde and for that he felt ashamed.

Grateful for some breathing space from the gargoyle who had become so central to his world of torment, Danny almost stopped breathing; hugging his guilt and memories to himself like a blanket. He tried blocking out the worst of the throbbing wounds but he was hot and sweating and felt dirty and used. He was desperate for water.

His mind was in turmoil. He hated to admit it but as the minutes ticked by he felt no closer to an end. Part of him, that small part that wanted to give up and cease this, felt he should provoke the man into finishing him off. The other, bigger, part of him realised that this man was no amateur at what he did and the chances were he would be kept alive so long as Cooke felt a need for him and _then_ he would end it or perhaps Dan's body would give up on him and release him from this life first.

Realistically he could only take so much damage and he wanted death on his own terms and not those of a sadistic killer.

He heard rustling outside.

Danny's heart started thumping so loudly he thought it would jump straight out through his ribs, feeling ridiculously cowardly he whimpered in silence. He tensed in anticipation of seeing Cooke, like a child hearing noises under the bed and fearing the Boogeyman that lay in wait. Well this boogeyman was real and it was coming for him. He almost wet himself.

What pain would be next? What humiliation? Dan only hoped he could withstand it and not break.

Cutter was framed in the doorway, daylight behind him throwing his whole shape into shadowy relief. His eyes glinted, whites showing as they opened wide to take in the sight of his precious possession. It was a good sight, a homely sight – he took pride in his work and Danny Walker was going to be a masterpiece – albeit achieved too swiftly for his tastes.

He stooped under the low lintel and came in with what looked ridiculously like two grocery bags. It _was_ two grocery bags - Danny recalled crushing some foodstuffs in the car when he fell to the floor.

Cooke glanced over to where Danny lay; happy to see his captive was right where he left him. "Grub's up!" he said with his former cheerfulness. Unfortunately Danny wasn't in the mood for levity.

Cutter dumped the bags on the floor and knelt down to peruse the contents. From his position Danny couldn't see what he was doing but he heard the sound of plastic and paper being torn.

"What time is it?" Williams asked Cooke with a lot more composure than he felt, "Or are you going to stab me for asking that too?" he added.

Cooke looked up to the bed and laughed "No, I'll tell you Danny. It's time too late for some and not time enough yet for others."

"Thanks!" Williams said sardonically, "I suppose I should be grateful."

Cutter chuckled "I like you, you amuse me – in so many ways! Actually it's time to eat. Look what we have here -" Danny couldn't see. "We have some strange looking Hawaiian biscuits, ah and some cat food but I think we'll give that a miss since we haven't a tin opener and oh yes some bread rolls mmmn they smell fresh. Lots of goodies. I think you've squashed everything here but beggars can't be choosers eh? I also have some fruit juice!"

Danny's mouth was watering, literally. He was salivating at the sound of the word juice'. He was so thirsty.

"Hot." He said without thinking.

Cooke heard the word and immediately rose up over the bed rustling packaging temptingly and licking his tongue along the juice carton.

"Aw, you hot Danny lad? That's no good. We wouldn't want you to be _uncomfortable_ now would we. How about I fix that for you?"

Images of pulverized fruit poured into tall frosted glasses full of ice cubes appeared in Danny's head. Sliced pineapple- mango- guava - orange. Large colored cocktails with umbrellas and maraschino cherries. Water; cool and clear. Ice cold draught beer. But instead of a refreshing fruit drink Danny felt sprinkles of crushed biscuits tipped onto him then the empty packet dropped on top of his chest.

_Stupid Danny, shouldn't speak Danny. Now what?_ He thought.

"Let's get you a little cooler shall we?" Cooke said soothingly as he brushed the package aside.

But there was nothing soothing about the flash of the blade that was there again and this time it was poised over Danny's sternum. _Oh God._

Rip

The blade tore through the t-shirt like a hot knife through butter, and the point of the blade carved through his skin as his t-shirt was sliced in two from sternum to navel, the neckline still intact. The last bit over his belly Cooke ripped himself, laying the scalpel down and picking the material up in two meaty hands before tearing it.

Danny's chest and stomach were now exposed and he was breathing so fast he thought he would hyperventilate. He had a bloody stripe down the length of him that stung like mad, oozing liquid and he felt naked. He was gasping and he was shit scared. _No more..no more…please no more…_

Cooke took stock of his handiwork. Admiring the carving and the brown chest beneath it.

Completely out of context with what he had just done, Cooke said in all seriousness "I want you to get up and run for me Danny."

"What?" Dan panted, his face frowning with incomprehension, he almost laughed. _Madness, sheer madness_ "Are you mad? How can I run when I'm trussed up like a chicken!!" He grit his teeth "Let me loose Cutter and the I'll show you just how fast I can run!" Dan hissed against the pain.

"Spoilsport. You always have an answer for everything don't you clever boy?" I'm sick of seeing you lying there while I do all the work. It's not easy doing this you know. It takes its toll on a man."

"Well stop then," Danny countered - not caring how Cooke took it. "Don't do it. Let me go and I will leave you in peace with your biscuits and flies. I don't even know where we are; how would I ever be able to lead anyone to you? Let me go and I won't ever bother you again!" he was desperate now, hoping against hope that one way or another this would end.

Cooke shook his head from side to side, his long hair whipped his face and his voice rose menacingly. "You don't think I believe THAT do you? As soon as you've left here you'll know precisely where you are and lead those pigs back to me. I'm not going back there do you hear me!! I'm not going back to those bars and those other men looking at me as though I am something they've picked up on the bottom of their shoe!"

The man in the yellow skirt was furious now, "It's men like _YOU_ Danny Walker that put me there in the first place! Men like _YOU_ who force me to do this kind of thing!" he held up the bloody instrument before Dan's eyes and shook it like a cat shaking a rat, foaming spittle crept from the corner of his mouth, "You don't understand how _little_ you mean to me, you are nothing but scum and I want to rid myself of you and your appealing face; your masculinity and your macho ways. You always get the girls. How come you always get the girls? Eh? What do _they_ see in _you_ that they don't see in me. Is it this?" He grabbed Danny through his shorts and gripped him tightly. Dan screamed.

"_This_, this is what it's all about isn't it?" He squeezed him "Take _that_ away and you're NOTHING. It's YOUR kind Walker that make me cut you. You ask for it." Cooke was practically frothing at the mouth in his anger.

An image flashed before Dan's eyes of what could come next and in that very instant he knew that Cooke was wrong about him. If that was what it took to put them on an even keel then Cooke could do his worst, it wouldn't make him any less of a man than he was. Maybe for Cutter's other victims it could have been true but Danny had enough self-confidence to know that what Cooke was threatening to take away didn't make him _who_ he was. That part of him was important sure but not _THE_ most important thing about Dan Williams. What made him a man was multi-layered and complex and very much the opposite of the beast in the room with him. He cared deeply about people and the world around him and that was what made him a man - not some piece of flesh attached to his body.

The anger and humiliation of being subjected to this torment and then having his very humanity and masculinity questioned by this excuse of a human being was enough to kick start the adrenalin surging back through Danny's veins. He could feel the burst of energy fighting his fatigue and pain. It coursed through him pushing back the remorseful and maudlin attitude of scant moments before when he had all but given up on himself.

He felt _renewed_ and emotionally invincible. If nothing else he could still piss this man off.

Quietly and calmly Danny said "So do I get that drink or not?"

Cooke's jaw just about hit the floor.

As McGarrett got back to the office it seemed as though the whole world was waiting in the anteroom to see him. Jenny was having a hard time keeping people at bay. The Marshall from Illinois was in conference with Chin who had decided it was easier to bring the mole hill to the mountain. Duke was there from HPD; he had been drafted in to talk to the reporters that were waiting outside, they were hoping to get any story from McGarrett they could with their flash cameras and notepads. There had been numerous calls from Governer Jameson's office all for Steve to call urgently. Franks was there too - pacing about and eager no doubt to renew McGarrett's faith in him by kow-towing. In the corner, sipping a black coffee that had gone cold twenty minutes before, sat Woodfield. Waiting to be summoned.

It was stifling. Steve loosened his tie as he pushed directly through to his office, ignoring everyone except his team. Anyone who tried to catch his eye on the way through was rewarded by his infamous glower. Like Medusa it turned them to stone.

Kono was back in his office, just as harassed by the crowds of people but equally as non-responsive as his boss. He still couldn't get over how he let Danny down, he doubted he ever would.

Jenny knocked gently on McGarrett's door. He guessed it was her, "Come in Jenny" he offered.

"Hi Steve, boy are we glad you're back! It's been mad here this last hour. Any news on Danny?"

The look on Steve's face was enough to answer her as he took off his jacket and sat down heavily in his chair.

"That good huh?" she said sadly.

"No it's not good news love. We think Danny's definitely been kidnapped. Any word this end?"

"Chin's been talking to the Marshall but he seems to know as little about what's going on with Roger Cooke as an errand boy. Chin will tell you, but from what I've gleaned he's not going to be help much. And the Governor has called for you several times, I think he's upset."

"Tell the Governor I will call him shortly. What about the FBI and HPD any word on the car?"

"Ah, we might have something there!" She said perking up. Steve jumped up from his seat.

"I was just waiting for you to get back. Duke was kind enough to take the call as the switchboard has been going crazy. Wait, I have the note here," Steve resisted the urge to grab her notebook out of her hands and read for himself. "Here we go. Someone apparently called in a license plate number that matches the description of the murdered woman's car…." She got no further than that before McGarrett grabbed her face with both hands and kissed her on the top of her coiffured head.

She went bright red with embarrassment and said "Can you wait until I've finished?"

"Sorry Jenny, it's just that's the best news I've heard all morning. Where was the car seen? Hang on, wait a second." He quickly strode to the door and ignoring everyone outside he shouted "Chin, Kono get in here."

Both men immediately stopped what they were doing and rushed into the office sensing something had broken.

"Boss?"

"Steve?"

"Close the door gentlemen: Jenny has some news."

Not used to being the centre of attention, particularly when she was only delivering a message, she flushed once again.

"Ahem, well as I was saying, Duke took the message from a local police station. They got a call from a man who said that he had been knocked off his bicycle this morning by a car that matched the description of Ms Stefani's vehicle. The car clipped him from behind. He gave the officer the license plate number which he had deliberately memorised."

Chin couldn't contain himself, "Where was this and what time?"

Jenny looked at him, "He thinks he was side-swiped around 9am this morning and the call log stated he rang at 9.22am . He was riding East along the Kalanianaole Highway when it happened."

McGarrett snapped his fingers and practically ran to the map drawn on the glass board. He tapped the glass on the circle he and Chin had drawn earlier.

"We now know which direction he was headed in gentleman," he looked round at Jenny when she coughed genteely "and lady," he added smiling. "Okay let's focus everything on that side of the island." He said indicating the eastern suburbs. "He has a big head start and could be anywhere by now but if we assume he's not driving outside the speed limit to avoid being spotted then we can come up with a possible search area.

I want every available man in a car out by Hanauma Bay before he can get too far along highway 72 or the surrounds and I want reports from this morning from every traffic cop around that area. Tell the helicopter to get airborne. We also need to know if anyone saw the car or anything suspicious in the area, even the slightest thing out of place I want to know about."

He turned back to the room, "Jenny did the cyclist see anything other than the make and number of the car? Anything unusual?"

Again she consulted her notebook. "Not from these notes, seems like HPD gave us all they were told."

"Thanks Jenny. Is Doctor Woodfield outside?"

"He's been waiting here since shortly after you and Kono went out. Shall I get him in?"

"Yes do that please and more coffee if you wouldn't mind. Oh, and if there's any way you can swing it please tell someone to get those reporters off my back. Get Duke to tell them we'll call them if there's any more news." As an afterthought he added "How's Elizabeth holding up? Have you spoken to her?"

Jenny shook her head "Nothing boss, but there's someone with her just as you asked."

"Okay Jenny, mahalo love."

She swung on her heels and left.

"Kono, Chin, get more men out there on the streets, Danno needs everyone looking for him. Tell them to keep in touch by radio."

"Will do. Keep the faith Steve," said Chin, "for Danny's sake."

Chin patted Kono on the shoulder reassuringly and they both went out.

With officers on the road and with a definite sighting of the car Steve felt a little better. It was still a big island and their resources would only take them so far but Danno was one of their own so he knew that police eyes everywhere were peeled for the smallest sign of where he might be.

There was another knock at the door and Tony Woodfield came in. He looked a little more strained than he did earlier that day and waiting around hadn't improved his demeanour at all.

"I thought you might not see me. I didn't realize there was so much activity around here." He smiled sheepishly at McGarrett.

"Well it's not every day you have a bona fide serial killer on the loose, everyone's in it for a piece of the action. How about you?"

Woodfield looked nervous. "Me? No, I'm just trying to help out."

McGarrett raised one eyebrow, "And perhaps the chance to get another academic paper out of it?" he asked.

Woodfield shrugged, "Well, maybe a little of that too." he admitted.

Steve nodded "I thought so. Sit down Doctor, I need you to fill in some of the gaps now that the situation with Cooke has changed."

"Changed? Changed how?"

"He has a hostage,"

"Hostage? You mean victim don't you?" said Woodfield.

Steve scowled at him, "I'm well aware of what I said doctor,"

"Well do you know who the er..hostage is?"

Steve paused just as Jenny came in with the coffee. She brought an extra mug for the doctor and he thanked her before she went out again closing the door behind her.

"We're pretty sure it's Danny Williams." He hated saying the words out loud, they seemed so final somehow. He took a sip of the much-needed brew to salve his nerves.

Woodfield stopped shoveling sugar into his cup, taken aback, "Williams? But how?"

"Never mind how; coincidence, fate - call it what you like, the fact remains that a very good friend of mine and a Police Officer is in serious trouble. Can you help us?"

"Me? Yes..er sure what do you want to know?" he really did want to help, he liked Dan Williams and he could also see that this big man, the so-called super-cop McGarrett was already grieving for his friend, as well he might.

Steve began, "I want facts about this man. His MO. I don't want theories spouted to me about why he does what he does, to me he's a criminal and I want to catch him and I don't care if his parents beat him within an inch of his life at this point. I just want to know what Williams is likely to be up against and what his chances are." He left much of what he wanted to say unsaid, it was no business of Woodfield's what his personal feelings about Danny were.

"His chances?!"

"You heard what I said."

"I certainly did mister McGarrett but I don't think you understand. If you had read my thesis this morning you would realise that Dan Williams' chances are next to zero. To our knowledge, Roger Cooke has never left any of his victims alive. He's a psychopath, a sadist - a cold-blooded murderer." Woodfield shook his head sadly. "You may as well start planning your friend's funeral now McGarrett."

Steve's eyes flared with anger and his fist clenched so tightly the blood drained from his knuckles and it twitched in his lap, the ridges like rounded icebergs in a sea of blood.

Woodfield thought he was going to be punched with it.

Steve grit his teeth, "We're not talking about a member of the public _doctor, _we're talking about a trained police officer, a negotiator and someone who has lived through similar situations. If anyone can survive this Danno can."

"Well with all due respect I hope for your sake your touching faith in your detective is rewarded, but the odds are completely against him coming out alive. I seriously doubt that Dan Williams has ever met anyone like this before. Someone one who has no morals or compassion and wouldn't hesitate to do anything to your man that he felt like. And I mean anything!" Woodfield paused for breath, "If Cooke has him I doubt they're still on the run, he's been too long without the chance to indulge in his passion. My best guess is that he's holed up with Danny now and that whatever you can imagine in your worst nightmares has already started for Williams."

_Oh gods Danno.._

"What should we expect? I need to know more about him, what his other victims went through before they…died and what he did with their bodies." Steve wasn't really sure he wanted to hear any of it, his blood ran cold.

Woodfield began "You may have read some, or all, of this before but for ten years Cooke ran a quiet tobacco shop called Cosmic Smokes in Illinois during which time he lived upstairs in one back room with a galley kitchen and separate bathroom. They investigated his past but couldn't seem to track down where he lived before that and so many people go missing in the United States each year they couldn't locate a previous address using those statistics. The cellar underneath the shop was where he did his torturing and the back yard - overlooked by back walls only, was where he buried his victims. The ones that we know about. They found the bodies of eight men and one woman that he had obviously kept imprisoned there at various times."

The psychologist took a swig of his coffee and continued, "During that time he tortured and sexually abused them keeping his victims quiet with vet tranquilisers. He particularly liked razor blades which kept the victim alive longer and he seemed to have knowledge of where to damage his victims without them bleeding out before he was finished with them. He sometimes seared the wounds to keep them alive longer."

McGarrett was horrified as the doctor continued, "To outsiders he appeared to be a quiet, unassuming man but what they didn't know was that Cooke had a penchant for sadomasochistic slavery and torture; mostly men. As I told you they also found women's clothing at his apartment but we don't know if he used them whilst acting out his fantasies or just to lure the men somehow. He never spoke about it when he was being interviewed after his capture."

The part about luring his victims fit what Steve already knew from the kid Mack.

Woodfield added, "The reason he killed the one woman is still unknown since she doesn't fit in with Cooke's known type."

"Which is?" Steve asked.

"– young men roughly between the ages of 20 to 40 who are boyish in appearance."

_Oh Danno.._

Another swig of the bitter coffee and Woodfield added, "He has no known family alive - oh and he usually marks the victim with a series of crosses, like kiss symbols – just something they noticed on each of the corpses they found." Woodfield queried "May I asked, is he armed? Lieutenant Franks never told me what happened to the officers."

Steve nodded, stomach churning, "He has some kind of scalpel blade he used to kill the officers and a woman he attacked on the street, no idea how he got it but no gun; that we're pretty sure about."

Woodfield shook his head. "Oh dear, that really is bad news for Williams. Like I told you before his weapon on choice is anything that can cut a victim up, he has never been known to kill with a gun but he loves the knife which he uses to virtually vivisect them. We don't know what mental cruelty they are subjected to before they die of course, since none survived, but they have theorized that he threatens them to ensure that his victims comply with whatever request he makes of them."

_And Danno is going through this right this very second._ Steve felt nauseous.

Cooke continued "Power seekers feel a need to exert control over their victim using a variety of ways but primarily by torture or sexual abuse, they sometimes try and exhort money from the victim's families by way of ransom but in this case Cooke never did. These killers can use ways of cruelty that most people cannot even begin to imagine."

All so cold, so clinical sounding and so awful.

"And finally?" Steve ventured.

Woodfield took in a deep breath, "Well, he usually keeps them alive as long as possible before they succumb through shock, starvation, dehydration, blood poisoning or of course blood loss, but sometimes he strangles them."

The images were horrific and Steve felt he had heard enough; more than enough. He now had a lifetime's supply of pictures in his mind of Danno bleeding, victimized, abused and suffering.

Steve shook his head, trying to exorcise the images before he asked, "Do you have anything else you can add that might make a difference to our investigation?"

Woodfield shook his own head and looked at his hands as though trying to come up with something he could say that would soften the truth. "Not really, best guess as I've said is that he's gone to ground temporarily. Somewhere quiet and out of the way where no one can hear screaming since I'm assuming he has no drugs to use on Dan to keep him quiet."

Steve's face drained of color at that.

The doctor continued, "The fact that he's being hunted by the police and authorities may mean one of two things; it may mean a quick death for his victim er..Dan Williams, in order for him to still make his escape without being found, or it may be that whatever he would normally do in days or weeks to those he kidnaps he will do in the next few hours; effectively escalating the level of savagery, particularly if he gets wind of the fact that he has a policeman held captive." Woodfield was very sad and very serious when he added finally "I'm sorry mister McGarrett but you really need to locate him very, very soon or you may find little left of your friend intact."

After Woodfield had gone, Steve felt the walls closing in on him. He couldn't breathe and all he could picture was Danno's face superimposed on one of the crime photos. Danny, naked and trussed and brutally disfigured, dead or in pain or _worse_. His hand reached out behind him to catch his chair before he fell into it.

His head fell onto the desk and he ran his fingers repeatedly through his hair as if the sheer act would excise the images from his brain. Woodfield's words ringing in his ears _'somewhere quiet and out of the way where no one can hear screaming…''_

_He couldn't breathe, he needed air, he needed Danno. _

After a few moments, McGarrett felt the desperate desire to get out of the office. The walls were leaning towards him like fair ground mirrors. He loosened his tie even more. Feeling ill he rushed out into the crowded room. Chin saw him - the bleached clammy face and the sweating brow, and went to see what was wrong. As he put a hand on Steve's shoulder McGarrett shoved it off "Leave me be!" he said angrily to Chin and continued to the hallway ignoring the stares of his fellow officers, the secretaries, the press and the tourists coming in. He ran down the stairs and out of the Palace and past the guards on the door like a bat out of Hell.

Back inside everyone was stunned. A reporter tried to follow the Five-0 Chief and found his way blocked by a big angry-looking Hawaiian name Kono Kalakua.

Steve ran down the steps of the Iolani Palace like his life depended on it. He ran across the parking lot and onto the green grass outside with its trees and flowers and neatly trimmed hedges.

He wanted to run and keep on running until it stopped hurting. The endless possibilities leaking into the corners of his imagination like tormented souls pleading at him, begging him to save Danno. He kept seeing Danny's fresh smile then his face contort with pain over and over again. Saw the knife and felt the blade as it sliced across Dan's flesh. So much blood, his friend's blood. A cloak of scarlet velvet wrapped itself around his eyes and he tried to tear at his sockets to release himself from the dam burst of his visions.

He saw more than even he dare admit to himself and he wanted to scream at the unfairness of it all. The officers who died that morning; Angela Stefani; Dan's blood on the road; Elizabeth's face; the bodies of the other victims. Danno.

Danno begging for mercy; screaming; more blood; Dan's face. Gibbering laughter and agonized yells. He couldn't take it; it was like a scene from Hades itself and he was trapped inside.

This time he wasn't strong enough. He couldn't deal with all this just now. In a while but not just yet. _Just give me a moment_ he thought.

When he could run no further he dizzily held onto a tree that was in front of him to stop himself falling; a big broad tree that must have stood there for decades; its thick branches giving shelter to the birds and bees and now to a lonely and tormented man. He held that trunk as though it was his mother's waist and he sank slowly to his knees, the world spinning round him like a maelstrom and at the center of it all, in the whirlpool was Danny's face, etched with pain, screaming for _him_. And he wasn't there.

Steve McGarrett - tough boss of Five-0; a man who had seen almost everything imaginable in his lifetime - supercop - wept.


	7. Chapter 7

CHAPTER 7.

It was the afternoon of a beautiful Hawaiian Monday.

For most people, locals and tourists alike it was like any other day on God's paradise island, exciting, predicable - _safe_. People went about their business to-ing and fro-ing, enjoying the sun or making haste to appointments. Some children were playing by a water fountain, laughily gaily as they slooshed the liquid with their tiny fingers and splashed each other with the droplets, giggling in high-pitched screams as they dodged the home-made rain. A hippie couple kissed passionately under a tree; groovy outfits covered in daisy chains, and a radio blared out hits from the sixties which grated on the nerves of an old man feeding pigeons from his park bench.

Under another tree, away from the crowd, a lonely man sat. He was completely oblivious to the world around him, to the flower power, happiness and laughter of children. So wrapped up was he in his own private misery that neither did he notice the two men dressed in sombre suits coming towards him.

After his inelegant exit from the Palace not a quarter of an hour before, both Chin and Kono had come looking for him. They were worried that Steve may have gone out to try and find Danny on his own. They worried too that whatever had sent their boss and friend over the edge was something to do with Williams that they should know about; something serious and that they were missing vital information about their friend.

When they finally located the Five-0 Chief, McGarrett was sitting on the dirt, his long legs outstretched and his back to the mottled bark of a tree. He was staring hypnotically into the branches above him, watching the emerald leaves as they rustled in the breeze.

He had been crying.

Kono stood back a little as Chin shook his head inperceptibly and approached Steve on his own, he crouched down beside his friend and laid a hand on his shoulder.

Steve flinched as if Chin had burnt him but continued staring upwards as though something deeply fascinating could be seen high in the wind, twigs and patchwork light. Even Chin and Kono looked up hoping there was an explanation in the tree to explain their boss' fascination.

Chin was appalled to see how tired Steve looked. He had gray exhaustion circles under his eyes and his skin was sallow and tight against his skull as though he had been ill for a very long time. His eyes were red rimmed and he had a vacant look about him that made Chin worried.

Steve had rolled his sleeves up and the top two buttons of his shirt were undone. His tie lay discarded beside him on the roots and loam and his normally coiffured hair was mussed as though he had been trying to pull it out.

"Bruddah are you okay?" Chin said quietly trying not to shock the man further.

Slowly Steve's fathomless blue eyes came round to meet Chin's. He raised one eyebrow and sighed, "Yeah Chin. I'm fine."

He patted the ground with his hand, indicating for them to sit. The men did so, not a little uncomfortably. This casualness was so unlike McGarrett they were taken aback. "I've been thinking," he said distractedly, "we should get out more often together. We spend so much time at the office so maybe when this is all over the four of us could go fishing on my boat."

It was Kono's turn to raise his eyebrows - this wasn't like McGarrett at all.

Steve continued in a voice that seemed distant, "I was so surprised that I had no idea who Elizabeth Grant was this morning. Danno hadn't mentioned her at all and I regret that. We used to share things, tell each other stuff. I've not been spending as much time with him as I should and now…" he broke off, tears welling up again and he blinked them away before showing further weakness.

Kono added a hand to Steve's arm in support, "You know boss, Danny wanted to introduce the two of you but he told me you had more important things to do than see his latest girlfriend, he said you'd think his mind was on other things but he also told me that if the time was right he would make sure you two met. He knows you care bruddah." He paused before adding seriously, "And we'd be honoured to go fishing with you."

A small smile appeared, lighting up the shadow of Steve's face, "Thanks Kono. I do care, I care deeply about what happens to him and what happened to those poor men this morning and that girl. I want this man in custody whatever happens and I want him to pay for what he's put us all through."

Chin asked, "What made you get up and leave like that Steve? Was it something to do with Danno?"

Steve suppressed a shudder and if possible paled even more, blood rushing away from his cheeks. "Yes Chin. The profiler told me what was likely to happen to Danno in the hands of that murderer and I guess the images got a little too real. I'm okay now, I just needed some fresh air and a few minutes to think."

He picked up his tie and put it back on before buttoning up his shirt in a very business-like way, making it clear to his colleagues that his disintegration was temporary.

Steve McGarrett was back in control, "Now we get to work. I'm going out with you and we're going to turn over every stone and every pile of dirt on this island until we find that brute and Danno - and we're going to do it now."

He got up brushed off his trousers, ran both hands through his hair to straighten it then, with all the dignity he could muster, led his men back to the office.

A short time later what seemed like the every police car and helicopter on the island was out and rolling, even the Coast Guard were alerted. Armed with descriptions of the car, the escaped prisoner and Dan Williams as well as Stefani's outfit they made inquiries wherever they could. After the sighting on Kalanianaole most of the man power was directed on the eastern side of the island but HPD and FBI units were also patrolling other areas within a reasonable distance of the last known sighting.

The cavalry were on the way……they just didn't know where they were going.

&

"I may have to move on soon." Cooke said as he paced up and down in the cabin. It was too small for more than ten steps before he was back across the dirt floor to the other side. Every time he moved he kicked earthy dust into the enclosed space making the atmosphere gritty.

"Que sera, sera?" Danny offered sardonically.

Cooke turned his steady gaze to his victim.

"Did you know that song comes from a film?" but before Dan could answer he continued, "From The Man Who Knew Too Much' - great film. Doris Day and Jimmy Stewart. He knew too much like the title says - so they tried to kill him."

Danny neither knew nor cared. After his burst of defiance he had lapsed back into semi-consciousness and felt the beginnings of what could have been a fever. He was listless and his heart beat rapidly. His wounds were throbbing more now especially the stab wounds to his shoulder, arm and feet. He had little feeling left in his limbs because of the position he was tied in and what bothered him most was the fact that he was started seeing things flitting around the room that he knew weren't there. Just bits of bright light shadowing the motes of dust but it made him suspect he was going into shock or something worse.

Cooke didn't seem to notice his audience was half conscious. He walked around the cabin with an air of someone giving a student lecture; snapping his fingers to punctuate his words, "Doris had a thing for mutts. My momma had a dog once, mangy little furball. She called it Rusty. Momma loved that dog far more than she ever loved me; one day when she was out I slit its throat and buried it." He gave a belly laugh and chuckled "Momma never knew what had happened to it. She thought it ran away. Isn't that something?"

Danny was disgusted. _One more reason to spit on your grave_, he thought.

"So when are you leaving?" Dan asked mockingly; seemingly unaware of the grave danger he was still in.

"Tut tut pretty boy, you want to get rid of me?" Cooke said unpleasantly.

Danny coughed, his mouth was so dry and he was finding it hard to rack up the energy to do anything let alone speak_. I never did get that drink_. He thought. "Now why would I want to do that? We're having such fun together!" _You bastard_ he failed to add.

Cutter Cooke didn't fail to see the sarcasm in Danny's comment. "You think that's funny eh? Well try this for funny - _runt_!" he grabbed Danny's right hand tightly.

_Here we go again _Williams thought panicking. "Get off me you bastard!!" He struggled against Cooke wrenching his arm almost out of its socket as one by one Cooke pushed the fingers on his hand apart and slit the fleshy webbing between the digits with his blade. Danny tried grabbing the scalpel but only succeeded in slicing cuts into the top of two fingers which hurt even more. This was a hundred times worse than any paper cut he had ever experienced. Once again blood jetted from the wounds.

"DEAR GOD!!" Danny grit his teeth and tried determinedly not to give Cooke the satisfaction of letting rip the howl that was reverberating inside his head. Try as he might though he didn't make it and as the skin was finally severed between his thumb and forefinger a hoarse scream escaped through his mouth and bounced around the hut. He bit down on his tongue and drew blood.

"Hurts doesn't it?" Cutter said gleefully, "I love it when it hurts – it's such a turn on."

Danny was nearly was sick again and his heart was pounding double time. If it wasn't for the fact that the other wounds had mostly started to congeal, he doubted he would have an ounce of red stuff left in him.

Cooke went over to the crate and leaving the blood-encrusted scalpel on the edge picked up the half-empty carton of juice. Returning to the bed he deliberately took a long swig of the liquid in front of Danny letting the juices dribble around his lips and chin before drop wastefully onto the yellow blouse. The woman's dried blood mingled with the pineapple and sent ripples of liquid across the material. Danny's face was flushed and the cords stood out on his neck as he clenched his muscles against the intense agony rippling through him. Cooke merely laughed.

He lifted the carton above Danny's head and made as if to pour it into his victim's mouth. The wounded man couldn't help it, he opened his lips and put out his tongue to receive whatever droplets he could but he should have known that none would be forthcoming. He berated himself for being so stupid as to believe they would and closed his jaws with a click.

Gravity persuaded one tiny pearl of juice to drop from the corner of the carton onto Danny's lower lip and he quickly chased it around with his tongue in case Cooke should spot it and deny him even that small pleasure. It was the sweetest thing he had ever tasted.

Torment over for a minute, Cooke sat back down on the wooden crate careful not to cut himself on the blade and began whistling again as he watched the shift of Danny's semi-naked body on the bed and the blood oozing down his hands as his victim moaned and shivered. He was imprinting the images and thinking of what he could create had he the time. He genuinely like Danny Walker', he hated him too of course but part of him had enjoyed their challenging time together and would miss him. It had been a blast.

Clasping his hands together in a priest-like manner he said at last, "Look, I know this has been hard on you Danny,"

He had all the sincerity of a marriage guidance counselor and Dan had to chuckle at that. _Understatement of the century_. He thought.

"But you know sometimes people are just drawn together for whatever reason. You came into my life _exactly_ when I needed you and I," He snarled, "well I came into your life simply to take it from you."

"Steve will hunt you down." Danny croaked.

Cooke's crow-like eyes lit up and he shifted forward on the box, "Steve? Who's Steve?" he said cocking his head to one side, not quite believing that his victim was giving him something personal at last.

Danny well and truly messed that up, he wasn't going to give anything away about himself _Definitely losing my mind, _ he thought. But now he'd started down that route and knowing that any minute he could be dead, he might as well give it a go and see if he could at least frighten his would-be murderer.

"Steve is Steve McGarrett, Head of Five-0 Police here in Hawaii. He is your nemesis so you may as well know his name!" Danny coughed again, _hard to breathe..so very tired._

"Tsk!" Cooke hissed, dismissing what Danny was saying with a quick wave of his hand. "This McGarrett will never find me and what's more important," he said pointing a crooked finger at Danny "he will never find _you _! Well, not alive anyway."

"You think not?" Danny said with bravado. "McGarrett is the best cop in America and he has come up against scum like you before and taken them down. He will hunt you like the rabid animal you are and when he finds you you had better pray to the devil that he doesn't find you alone." Danny started laughing, it was borderline hysteria and he couldn't help himself, he laughed and sobbed and choked.

Cooke slapped him across his crushed cheek and Danny grunted with pain "_Why_? Why would he bother to do that? Not because of you? What are _you_ to this man?" Another backhand.

Dan tasted more blood in his mouth, how sick he was of the smell of his own blood and the taste of iron and vomit and dirt. _Careful what you say Danno._

"Nothing, I am nothing to him but you've killed a woman and you're obviously just about to kill me. The police won't let you rest _Cooke_. Do you have any idea how small this island actually is? Did you really think you could get away? They will be watching the ports, the boats, the airports. _Every conceivable_ mode of transporting you off this island will be watched like a hawk. Hell you won't even get to swim off!" _Oh you're real good Danno, suicide city_.

Cooke bounced up and down like a petulant child, skirt lifting like a kite and dust floating around him. "How DARE you speak to me like that!" he frothed again "I will find this McGarrett first and I will kill HIM! But not before I've killed _YOU_!"

He began pummeling Danny uncontrollably until Williams could take no more and screamed his head off.

One more punch - lights out - no more pain.

Maybe for the last time.

&

Just above the plateau an elderly lady was walking her dog. She liked to take a stroll now and then, whenever she felt well enough. Her small ginger terrier trotted alongside her wagging his tail happily, tongue lolling. Every once in a while she had to stop and catch her breath. She wasn't as young as she used to be and even short distances took her a while to navigate.

Her wide-brimmed hat sheltered her from most of the sun's savage rays but she deliberately wore a short sleeved dress that allowed the tan to build up on her wrinkled arms. She liked to impress her sister Dolly when she came over from the mainland.

The woman looked back at the path she had taken. She hadn't noticed the slight downhill gradient and with trepidation realized the path back was quite steep. She bent down slowly and petted her dog's head who was grateful for both the pause and the extra attention.

"We're going back now darling," she said.

As she turned on her veined ankles to retrace her footsteps home to a cup of tea and a foot bath, she heard a sound captured on the wind, one that made her septuagenarian blood curdle.

It was the mournful echo of someone in agony; the sound of a man screaming in pain.

&

The radio was alive with reports. Steve was in his Mercury heading onto State Highway 72, Chin and Kono further up in another car - they separated at Keohole Street.

Steve had a hunch. If Cooke was going to ground there were plenty of places he _could_ hide but none of them were in the heavily populated areas that some of the other patrols were covering although McGarrett had a duty to cover them in case he proved wrong. He tried to picture himself in the escaped man's shoes; visualizing the road as if he were making that journey with a prisoner. He was armed with the knowledge that wherever Cooke had gone he would want privacy, lots of it and a place to stash Danny where, in Woodfield's words, no one would hear him screaming.

McGarrett was a man on a mission; a mission to save his best friend's life and bring in a very sick man to face justice again one final time.

Luckily he knew the island well and as the roads raced past him McGarrett was swiftly able to assess whether or not they fit his criteria. He dismissed many of them as pointless to investigate. Steve knew his men would be doing the same. He just prayed they were right.

Up ahead Kono and Chin were just coming out of the old refuse station having judged that it was too open a site for Cooke to abuse anyone without someone hearing.

Chin was driving.

"You think we're gonna find Danny?" the Hawaiian next to him said.

His eyes never leaving the road, Chin shook his head, "I dunno Kono. Steve seemed pretty rocked, whatever that doctor told him I think the boss was grieving for Danno out there under that tree."

"Danny's strong, he won't give up, neither will the boss." Kono knew how brave Danny could be but if he had the benefit of knowing what Steve knew about Cooke he may well have kept that comment to himself.

Chin understood better "He may not have a choice bruddah, sounds like this man leaves no one around to talk. Got to face facts Kono. We'll catch this guy for sure but we may not find Danny in time."

Kono stared out of the side window as he absorbed what Chin said, "I hope you're wrong about that, I really do." He said sadly.

"So do I my friend. So do I."

&

The radio chirped, "Dispatch to McGarrett,"

Steve picked up his radio.

"McGarrett, here go ahead what have you got?"

"Had a call from someone out near Hanama Bay reserve. Think it might be connected to your search; you said you wanted anything." The disembodied voice replied.

Steve's heart starting thumping. Maybe, just maybe this was it.

"What's the report?" he asked with trepidation.

"Old lady out with her dog up near Poipu Place near the southern most tip of the Bay. She thinks someone was being attacked. Says she heard what she thought was a man screaming."

Oh god, that's it! It had to be. Danno we're coming to get you! Hold on!

"How long ago?" _Please please_ .

"Not long, about ten minutes." The dispatcher gave McGarrett the address.

"I want a van, officers and ambulance sent immediately to that address."

Ten minutes. If that was Danno he was still alive as of ten minutes ago. Steve dared to hope. _Someone did hear you my friend. Could it be that simple after all this time?_

He patched himself through to the other car, "Kono, Chin come in?"

Kono answered "Yes boss?"

"We may have a witness who heard a man screaming. The lady lives at Poipu Drive overlooking the bay - number two hundred and sixty. I'm on my way there now. Meet me as fast as you can."

"On it Steve!"

The sirens were on, someone cried Havoc!' and the dogs of war were on the loose.


	8. Chapter 8

CHAPTER 8

"_Danny are you asleep!?"_

_It was the evening and Dan Williams was back in Elizabeth's apartment. _

_He lifted one eye lid, his brow creasing as he peered up at Lizzie standing in the middle of the lounge clad only in her bikini. She had a hurt look on her face, the kind of look you would give a child who had disobeyed you. He was lying on the couch, arms crossed with his feet on the footstool and had fallen asleep with the baseball match on. _

_She had a bowl of popcorn in her hands and a cold beer. Awake now, he pursed his lips. "Now _that_ is what I call the perfect picture of domestic bliss!" He said smiling._

_She kicked his bare feet off the stool with one foot. _

"Hey, watch what you're doing there miss or I may have to arrest you for assault!" He sat up and leaned further back in the comfortable cushions. Danny patted the seat next to him and she sat down and curled her legs underneath herself then handed him the beer which he took gratefully.

"If that involves handcuffs, I'm you're woman!" she said naughtily.

_Lizzie put the popped corn on the stool and Danny smiled knowingly before he took a swig of the cool drink, enjoying the trickle of refreshment down his throat. He carefully placed the bottle beside himself on the carpet and licked the droplets of condensed water off his fingers._

"_Who's winning?" she said cheekily, knowing full well that Danny had missed most of the plays. He smiled benevolently then - taking a handful of popcorn - he threw it at her. _

_They started a playful food fight. Popcorn flew everywhere bouncing off the sofa and floor as well as each other. Somehow the bottle of beer got knocked over and soaked bubbling into the carpet. Lizzie stuffed handfuls of the corn down the neck of Danny's shirt and he in turn succeeded in turning her bikini top into a snack bar. Which was just fine by him._

_When the bowl was empty they were laughing and breathless and Danny couldn't help but kiss Lizzie's enticingly moist lips. As Danny went for the kiss she laced her fingers into his short curls and pulled him closer threading her tongue into his mouth as they drank in each other passionately. _

_When she allowed him to come up for air he was staring into her cleavage and the white popcorn nestled in her bosom. Lizzie could see from the glint in his eye what he was thinking and she giggled like a small child. _

_Pushing her back onto the sofa he freed the trapped corn but not without tasting one or two for himself. Lizzie grabbed the base of his top and pulled it over his head in haste, catching his ears as it came off. "Ow!" he said and she giggled again._

Her hands roved all over his naked flesh fondling his chest and muscled back as his mouth snaked up and down her body searching for more corn. Then all of a sudden she… …slapped him. "Hey, hey wake up Danny boy, you don't want to be missing the main event now do you?" Another slap. Cooke, it was Cooke. Dan's blurred vision cleared a little. Another dream, no, another memory. Was that just last night? He wondered.

"Well," Cooke said clapping his hands on his thighs, "time is a-wasting and this has been fun but I'm going to have to get going before the cops find me. I hate to leave. I have so enjoyed our little chats together and _other things." _

Other things? There is was again. Planting the seed of doubt. This man was a master at it.

_So long Steve, take care. _

Steve McGarrett got to the house before the other officers and the elderly woman was waiting for him. As he reached the door of the neat and tidy property he flashed her his ID.

She had a small dog in her arms that wouldn't stop barking. He looked from her to the dog several times before she asked him in and noticing McGarrett was rather distracted by the animal she popped the excitable canine outside in her back yard where he continued barking and jumping and down at the sliding doors.

She offered McGarrett a seat but he excused himself saying he was in a hurry and that he really needed to know precisely where she was when she heard the scream.

The old lady told McGarrett and he thanked her warmly and drove up to the spot that she had described.

After he had gone she was struck with the impression that he was such a haunted looking young man and could only think that he must have had a recent death in the family.

Steve reached the end of the Poipu Drive, siren turned off in case he alerted Cooke. McGarrett got out of the car and strained to hear anything. Nothing. He could _feel_ Danny close by but he couldn't see any sign of the white car.

He got back in his sedan and rolled all the windows down in case the wind carried any more sounds up. He cruised slowly back up the drive and turned left into Hanapepe Loop. Again Steve stopped the car, again no sounds; barring the normal everyday ones of cars honking or planes flying over in the distance. He took the next right on Moloaa crossed Poipu Drive again and did a left on Lumahai Street.

This was more like it and Steve had the fleeting impression he was right on top of where he wanted to be, where Danno was. His sixth sense was tingling and he tensed inadvertently.

The street was long and inclined downwards eventually ending with a dirt track which Steve took the sedan down as quietly as possible, coasting much of the way.

His patience was rewarded. There at the end of the track and hard up against some bushes was a vehicle. _The vehicle. _He resisted the urge to yell out Danny's name as he got to it.

He called it in. "McGarrett to central, come in central," the radio crackled back "This is dispatch, go ahead McGarrett."

"Redirect officers enroute to Poipu Drive to Lumahai Street, repeat Lumahai Street. Suspect's vehicle found at the end of the street. Am proceeding to inspect the vehicle and await backup. Send officers Kelly and Kalakaua to meet me urgently and tell everyone no sirens; we want a silent approach - possible hostage situation. McGarrett out."

"Received loud and clear McGarrett. Dispatch out."

Kono and Chin were just coming down the Lunalilo Home Road when they got the call, still a little way from Lumahai Street.

Steve's mouth was dry and his palms were sweating as he got out of the car. He pulled his gun from his shoulder holster and carefully approached the abandoned vehicle praying he wouldn't see a body inside.

I'm coming Danno. Hold on for me my friend.

Not four hundred feet away in the valley below, the mantis was getting ready to strike.

"My one regret in all this," Cooke said as he stared at his human butterfly pinned to the bed streaked in red, "is that I never got a chance to work on your back." He said in all seriousness.

Danny was panting now and pulling at his restraints once more, he was frantic. The end was coming and he was trying desperately to think of anything but what was going to happen to him. He truly had no idea whether Cutter would slit his throat or simply stab him to death. He tried so hard not to think about it but he couldn't help himself. He just couldn't. He was having palpitations and tried to think of anything to say that would stay his execution. Spasms of pain washed over him.

"You don't want to do this Cooke," he managed to say although when the words came out it didn't sound like his own voice.

"Oh but I do! I want to VERY much!"

The scalpel was there again. Despite the pain, Danny's full attention was focused on that one small object, a mere two inches of death. His good eye trying to compensate for the bad one, he transferred his gaze to Cooke - willing him to disappear and for this all to have been a horrible nightmare.

His heart was beating, hammering too fast and brave though he tried to be he felt it would give up on him and strike him dead any second. _Better that than the alternative_. He thought.

But he wanted to live. He desperately wanted to stay alive. For Steve, for Clara, for Lizzie. He didn't want to become what he was seconds away from becoming, dead and wasted meat.

"Please," he finally begged. "Please don't do this!" Danny Williams never meant those to be his final words on earth.

The knife slashed downwards.

&

The car doors were unlocked when Steve got to them and after peering into it and finding the vehicle empty, McGarrett took out a spare handkerchief and opened the back door. Inside there was blood all over the cream leather; smeared on the back, the seat, and even on the floor. There were also remnants of crushed food, a scrunched up piece of bloody material and a tyre iron with what looked to be dried blood on it_. Danny's blood_. He reminded himself.

He checked the ground and sure enough there were brown spots on the dirt, he tested one with a finger and it smeared red onto his skin; definitely blood drying in the sun. Following the path of the droplets he saw plants that had been crushed as though someone had fallen on them.

Still holding his gun Steve looked cautiously out over the edge and saw a line of broken foliage dropping away from it.

_Perhaps Danno managed to get away?_ He thought but then he remembered the screaming.

He saw a path a little further up and Steve made his way down, careful to avoid treading on any giveaway branches. Not twenty feet away he caught sight of a torn piece of cloth; yellow and matching the description of the woman's missing skirt.

Further still and he saw the tin roof of a ramshackle hut.

_Got you_!

Inside the charnel house Danny was unaware of his friend's proximity. Contrary to what he thought, the final slash of the scalpel wasn't to finish him off but to cut a length of the stretched stocking from one of the tethers tying his hands to the bed.

Danny didn't know he could hold his breath for so long and finally let it out as an influx of humid air rushed into his strained lungs.

_Tick-tock_ a minute went by.

"What a pity this superhero pig friend of yours never came to rescue you eh?" Cooke spat at Danny's face. "I would have enjoyed killing you in front of him. Oh, I forgot, _you_ don't mean anything to him do you. Just another John

Doe-body."

_Tick-tock_ another minute of his life drained away.

Cutter put the blade down on the edge of the bed and started playing with the nylon in front of his victim's face; stretching the stocking before wrapping it around his hands and gripping it between his fists. He pulled it tight making Danny flinch.

_So that's how it ends. _Now he knew.

Cooke lovingly lifted Danny's battered head and wrapped the stocking around his throat. It wasn't a long piece - just long enough for its gruesome purpose, to throttle his victim until his last breath on earth. Danny tried to shake him off but it was pointless.

The madman bent down and much to Danny's disgust kissed him on the lips pushing his tongue in but Dan clenched his teeth firmly shut. Cooke bit him harshly "Bitch!" he said and pulled the cord tight around his victim's throat.

Danny thrashed on the bed; arms pulling, legs jostling. He had never fought so hard for anything in his life but the air was being cut off, his larynx was being slowly crushed and he felt his brain would explode with the pressure. Dan's face was turning purple and Cooke's evil visage was all he could see before him, in shadow.

"Whatever will be, will be Danny Walker!" Cooke said and laughing he pulled the ligature tighter.

Just when he thought he would expire, Dan felt calmer, the crazy cotton wool feeling coming over him again and lights flickered before him like fairies dancing in a wild wood. Gradually his thrashing started to subside, his breathing became shallow, the pressure in his head unbearable - his vision was gray and red and finally his legs stopped threshing.

He was dying.

&

Steve heard voices and the closer he got the more disturbing it was. Something was happening in the hut, there was a struggle going on he could just see through the open door.

McGarrett ran down the hill like an Olympian; not caring now if he was heard or not - all sense dismissed in his panic to save Williams. He had no concept of what he might be walking into and whether or not he could get hurt, he just didn't care.

Moments behind him Chin and Kono's cars pulled up behind McGarrett's and the two men got out.

The Five-0 officers saw Steve down below and about to rush into the hut and each said a silent prayer for their boss and Danny before unholstering their guns and following him into the fray.

There was no door to bust down and no cover if the man had a gun. Steve rushed straight in through the door, his _sole_ focus on Danny Williams.

What he saw inside would live with him for the rest of his life. Danny, half-naked with flies buzzing around him was tied to a bed and covered in blood and Cooke was choking the life out of him, Danny's face was going purple and his eyes were bulging slightly. Steve shouted out "_FIVE-0 PUT YOUR HANDS IN THE AIR!_" which seemed so inadequate somehow.

Danny's legs had been thrashing about moments before but they were gradually going limp and Steve could see that if he did nothing his friend would die any second so calling out a further warning, he immediately raised his gun and swiftly fired a shot.

The bullet took Cooke in the shoulder and blood erupted from the wound adding more scarlet rubies to the bed. The killer cried out in pain before dropping the stocking. Danny took a desperate, choking gasp of air into his lungs as the pressure subsided a little on his larynx.

Despite his wound, Cooke's hand slipped down surreptitiously to palm the blade he had left on the bed.

"Hands in the air!! DO IT NOW!" Shouted McGarrett. Cooke turned on him; a greasy man in a yellow blouse and flowery skirt with bloody streaks all over him and dainty shoes dripping red. Steve was momentarily fazed by what he saw and that was just enough leeway for Cooke to rush him.

On the bed Danny was just about holding on to consciousness, the stocking still restricting his airway. He saw Cooke and knew he was going to rush Steve.

Summoning up all his strength he tried using his damaged vocal chords to shout but all he uttered was a gurgled "Steve look out!"

Danno was alive!

It was enough warning for Steve to sidestep as Cooke launched himself at McGarrett with the blade poised to slash his throat.

The point deflected and went into Steve's flesh, tip breaking off near his clavicle, the rest of the blade spiraled down into the dirt. It hurt like hell. Steve yelled out in pain and felt the sticky warmth of blood through his shirt.

Having had his plan foiled and knowing this was his last stand Cooke threw everything he had into fighting McGarrett. Both were wounded and Steve tried to stop him getting the gun. Cooke scratched at Steve's face with his fingernails as he tried to grapple for the weapon. They both fell to the ground on their knees but Cooke, with his madman's strength, seemed to have the upper hand.

Outside a breathless Chin and Kono had finally made it. They saw Cooke attacking Steve and rushed to pull the murderer off their boss.

Cooke had lost it, he shouted abuse at them as he thrashed around like a wild animal. It took both men's combined strength to try and contain him. Finally the snap of the handcuffs locked tight around his wrists.

Steve was breathing heavily but pulled himself with difficulty up off his feet. He turned toward the bed to see Williams smiling at him. That one smile was worth a million dollars. Steve smiled back at Danno and winked then turned with a ferocity that his men didn't often see and punched Cooke in the stomach as Kono and Chin held him tightly.

"Get that worthless piece of garbage out of here." Steve managed to order through the pain.

He turned back to Danny and now he truly saw the result of the lunatic's handiwork, the scene was like something from an abattoir.

"Oh God Danno, what has he done to you?" He uttered in despair.

His first thought was to pull the ligature away from Danny's tender throat then he ran back out of the door and shouted up to Kono and Chin "Get that ambulance here _FAST_!"

Chin paused in hauling the struggling prisoner up to the car and called back "Should be here any minute Steve." But Steve was already back inside and surveying the carnage done to his Second-in-Command and friend.

As far as McGarrett could see there was no part of Danno that was unharmed. Incredibly after all that had happened including near-strangulation, Danny was conscious but Steve could see that he wasn't in any shape to do anything, he was crying, fat tears rolling down his grime streaked face and McGarrett wasn't sure if it was from pain or the relief of being rescued. He tried to untie the bonds that were holding him; the knots were too difficult for his fumbling fingers to release and each movement made Danny gasp with pain. Steve cursed the fact that his hands were too big for such a delicate operation. He would have to cut him free.

"Take it easy Danno, I'll get you out of here."

Steve looked around for the scalpel blade that Cooke had dropped in the fight and he spotted it stuck in the dirt but lying next to it was the most grotesque thing he had ever seen. Discarded on the compacted soil floor and covered in ants was a pink and bloody piece of flesh.

Steve looked back at his friend and recognized the same sized gaping wound on his arm, it wasn't large but it was enough to make Steve want to throw up. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath before taking out his handkerchief again and lifting the scalpel from the dirt - careful not to put his fingerprints on it.

Every movement caused Danny to spasm in pain, he tried not to whimper when Steve cut the stockings holding his wrists and ankles but he had been in one place for hours and there was no feeling but pins and needles left in his limbs as the blood attempted to rush back to the right parts. As it did so the wounds on his body opened up again and blood started to flow through the gashes. Steve didn't know what to do first, he had nothing to stop the bleeding; there was so much damage and so little comfort he could give him. He was utterly useless in the face of so many wounds.

He needed the medics.

To Danny in his haze of anguish, McGarrett looked as though he was also crying and Dan tried not to think how much it cost Steve to show that side of himself. Danny Williams had his death sentence repealed and this man had saved his life - again.

Steve was shocked at the amount of injuries one person could endure. Danno was a mass of contusions, cuts and blood. It was just like the photos, right down to the horrific crosses carved into Danny's hip. He wanted to pull up Danny's clothing to cover him better but he thought that it would hurt him too much.

The mattress underneath his friend gave little comfort to his bruised and battered body but at least it cushioned him as Steve tried to lift Danny's arms back down over his head. Danny couldn't help himself; he cried out in torment. It nearly broke Steve's heart.

"Come on Danno," he said bravely "We'll get you home my friend. You're safe now."

He brushed away the annoying flies that buzzed around the young detective like vultures and as he got close to him he could feel heat radiating off Danny and was tempted to shout again for the ambulance but he knew it would come and somehow at the moment he couldn't bear to turn away from his friend's battered face even for a second.

Steve put a hand on his forehead careful to avoid the cut on his temple. Danny was burning up.

"Drink?" Danny whispered hoarsely.

Steve mentally kicked himself for not thinking of bringing water

"I'm so sorry Danno I don't have anything." He said feeling guilty.

It was hard to lift his limbs but with some effort Danny made his undamaged hand point to the crushed grocery bags across the other side of the room. Steve got up to check them and sure enough there was a carton of milk in there, slowly curdling in the heat but he knew Danny wouldn't care.

Steve grit his teeth against his own injury and opened up the carton. He sat on the back of the bed behind Danny and carefully lifted his friend's head up before easing it onto his lap. McGarrett hadn't even stopped to pull the blade tip out of his own shoulder and he was starting to regret it as the wound throbbed and smarted. Caring little for himself, he poured small amounts of milk onto Danny's lips carefully smoothing it in so that he wouldn't choke with the damage already done to his neck. Most of it dribbled ineffectually out of the sides of his mouth and Steve noted with horror that even the milk was tinged with pink.

"Mahalo." Danny said weakly.

Chin and Kono came back into the hut and saw Steve on the bed with Danny. It was the first time they had really looked at what had taken place in there and both men paled when they saw their friend's condition.

Kono had tears in his eyes and didn't care who saw them, "Awue, I'm _so_ sorry Danny." He was too choked up to say more. Kono wanted to beg for forgiveness but Danny was totally obvious to them. He was drifting again and he could see those tiny pinpoints of light floating around the room, he was light-headed and felt like his eyes might be rolling in his head as the room spun about him like a merry-go-round.

Steve grudgingly took his eyes off his wounded comrade to ask of the men "Where's Cooke?"

"Squad car turned up Steve, he's in the back – two guards _and_ a grill" Said Kono sniffing slightly.

Steve nodded - greatly relieved.

McGarrett was worried about how much longer Danny could withstand being in that awful place so he made the decision to take him back outside into the light where he could breath again without the smell of blood and sick around him.

Steve gently laid Danny's head back on the mattress and got up. He bent to lift his officer into his arms but experienced a momentary wave of dizziness himself. He put it down to shock more than anything else since his injury was nowhere near as bad as any of Danny's.

He tried again and this time managed to get Danno up into his arms. Danny's head lolled to one side as he finally passed out from exhaustion and pain.

Steve McGarrett didn't get more than three steps before two pairs of hands lifted his burden from him and Kono and Chin took their colleague outside between them; careful not to jostle their unconscious companion. Steve was silently grateful as he wasn't sure he could make it up the side of the hill with Danno all by himself.

Above them the ambulance had arrived and stretcher bearers were coming down to meet them.

Chin and Kono carried Dan Williams up to the top of the path as gently as if they were carrying a precious relic. Incredibly Danny came round again as he was being lifted onto the stretcher.

Before they could cover him and put him into the ambulance Danny tried to get up but was too weak and called for Steve to help him, his voice a little stronger from the liquid he had swallowed.

"Danno you can't!" Steve tried to protest but Danny insisted.

Steve helped his friend to carefully stand up and Danny's legs nearly gave way. It was only McGarrett's strength that held him upright on his bloody feet.

"Steady Danno, take it easy." Steve said gently.

"I need to see him Steve, please," Dan looked into Steve's eyes and pleaded as he nodded in the direction of the squad car that housed the killer, "get him out for me?"

Chin understood what Danny wanted and hauled the man back out of the car. Cooke protesting police brutality every inch of the way with his untended wound bleeding badly down his arm.

Danny found it hard to stay standing but before he took one step forward he pulled his shorts further up over his hips and did up the button and fly, his ravaged hand and arms screamed at him as he did so and his wet, trembling fingers slipped on the fastenings. He grit his teeth against the pain in his legs and brutalized feet and eventually managed it. He needed his dignity back before he faced Cooke.

Roger Cooke turned to face the injured man who was trying to walk towards him. He smiled spitefully when Danny stumbled and McGarrett wanted to beat him to a pulp for it.

Seeing how difficult it was for Danny to walk, Chin pushed the handcuffed man forward to meet him. When he got closer Danny shrugged off Steve's arm indicating that he wanted to stand on his own two feet before his tormentor.

The police and ambulance men were completely silent as victim and murderer faced each other.

To their amazement Danny reached out with his uninjured hand and lifted up the yellow skirt to grab Cooke's balls through the prison overalls underneath. For someone who was so close to death just minutes before Danny had managed to muster a surprising amount of strength and Cooke cried out as he squeezed him.

Danny looked him straight in the eye "_These_," he said with difficulty, gripping Cooke tighter "are not what makes a man." One last squeeze and he released him then Danny touched his hand lightly to his own heart, "_This _is what does! That and these people here who are _my_ friends. You will never know that kind of love and for that I'm sorry for you." Danny wheezed trying to draw air into his lungs and Steve moved to step in and help his brave friend but Danny waved him back "You have destroyed so many people's lives that now it is my turn to take control and I _will_ see you rot in Hell."

"Who are you really?" Cooke asked in a high-pitched voice as his body recovered from Danny's grip.

"I am a police officer with Five-0. My name is Danny Williams and you are under arrest." He said proudly.

"You lied to me!" Cooke spat out. He sounded stunned. It wasn't a question but a statement.

Danny didn't bother to reply but as he turned around an afterthought occurred to him and he swung back again. He had very little strength left but he summoned it all up for one last effort and punched Cooke straight in the mouth "And THAT," he said with venom, "is for Doris Day!"

Cutter Cooke dropped to his knees from the force of the punch, amazed at the man who had bested him. Of seventeen victims over the years Danny Williams was the only one.

A spontaneous and very respectful round of applause punctuated the silence as the onlookers gave their approval to what Danny did. He looked back at McGarrett and grinned. But before Steve could return his smile he noticed a look of confusion in Danny's eyes as though he was unsure what was happening. The tortured detective opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out.

"Danno?" Steve asked anxiously, getting a terrible feeling in his gut.

Before he had time to react, Danny's eyes rolled up into his head and he collapsed; Steve catching him just before he fell to the ground.

The head of Five-0 knelt on the earth and wrapped his arms about the man he was so honored to call his friend . "I've got you Danno, I've got you aikane."

And Steve rested his chin protectively on Danny's head.


	9. Chapter 9

CHAPTER 9

He would have stayed there forever cradling his friend against the armies of darkness were it not for the ambulance men who peeled Danny out of his arms and lifted him back onto the stretcher - a mass of bloody cuts. They tucked a blanket over the insensible man and strapped him onto it for safety before putting him in the vehicle and closing the doors.

Steve sat on the ground for a moment, breathing deeply in the sunshine and savouring the few peaceful seconds in the aftermath of so much carnage. He relived the memory of Danno's heart beating against him, he was alive – that was all that mattered, all that ever mattered.

Before leaving for the hospital they delivered first aid to the wounded murderer; after his outburst and Williams' punch, the killer was stunned into silence.

One of the ambulance men approached the dazed McGarrett; knelt down and without asking, opened Steve's shirt to methodically inspect the wound in his shoulder before packing it with gauze and taping it up.

"Best get to hospital and get that checked out, there seems to be something lodged in there." The young man said gently, unsure what to make of the scene he had just witnessed.

Without looking up Steve nodded his head expecting the man to just leave him be. "That was a very brave thing your man did just now." The medic remarked as he pulled Steve's shirt carefully back over his chest. McGarrett's eyes met the younger man's and assessed him frankly as the man added, "I have no idea what happened here but he looks like he's been through hell and back and to have the guts to stand his ground in front of that _criminal_ …"

Steve smiled at him, lost in his own recollections of the countless times when Dan showed more bravery than men with twice his experience and strength, "Yeah Dan is like that." He said simply, no more words just the truth in recognition of a remarkable human being.

"If you don't mind me asking I'd be grateful if you would shake his hand from me when he gets back on his feet again, I may not be around the hospital then. The name is Johnson, Marty Johnson."

McGarrett offered his own hand to shake in return and Marty shook it carefully, mindful of the wound, "Of course I will mister Johnson, I'm sure Danny would be pleased."

"Thanks mister McGarrett. I've read a lot about you and mister Williams from the papers and the television but I never hoped to meet either one of you in person. It has been a pleasure!" he said with misplaced honesty.

Steve shook his head sadly, "Unfortunately mister Johnson I can't say the same given the circumstances under which we met."

Marty Johnson blushed from ear to ear "Oh forgive me I didn't mean…yes of course, the circumstances…well apologies." He mumbled. McGarrett levered himself off the ground and said simply "Nothing to apologise for."

Steve's mind drifted elsewhere, he was busy wondering about the wound on Cooke's leg. He made a mental note to ask the doctors about it. "Where are we off to?" he asked Johnson.

"Queens trauma unit. They'll take good care of him."

"I'm coming with you." McGarrett replied flatly as Marty went to leave.

"Sorry sir, I'm afraid there won't be enough room in the back with your injured man".

Steve tried not to show his disappointment, he had just got Danno back and didn't want to leave Williams' side again for a very long time. Every foot away from him was a foot too far and he couldn't shake the feeling that he still needed protecting, even though his tormentor was in custody.

Steve called to Chin, "Get Che Fong over here with the lab boys, I want every scrap of evidence photographed and documented. No loop-holes understand? We can't leave anything to chance. Have you frisked Cooke to make sure he's not armed with any more blades? I want him stripped naked if necessary then get him to the hospital to see to that gunshot wound," His voice hardened, "Get that woman's skirt and blouse off him too Chin, it makes me sick to see him wearing it. Bag everything then meet us at Queens - Kono and I will follow the ambulance."

"Sure thing Steve. Now you go look after Danny and yourself." He looked at Steve's pale face and added "But I think Kono should drive."

"Mahalo my friend," Steve gripped him on the shoulder to show him he was grateful for the support.

Kono was perfectly happy to drive since it meant he could find out more about Danny's condition when he got to the hospital. He was still beating himself up for not locating him sooner.

Steve patted the big guy on the back and nodded his head in the direction of McGarrett's car "Okay Kono, let's go."

Kono opened the passenger side for his boss and the tall man slid into the seat, protecting his arm, before pulling the door shut. The pain from his wound was evident in his drawn expression. They were keen to leave the scene and all that they had witnessed and to get on with the process of clearing up. Most of all they wished it had never happened.

The ambulance fired up its siren and following their lead, Kono did the same. With difficulty, McGarrett looked back over his shoulder, grimacing. Chin had Cooke back out of the car and was stripping him whilst the other officers worked like soldier ants; taking Chin's commands as he gave instructions to secure the area.

Steve sighed and turned back to the road, he leaned his head back, suddenly feeling very tired. Ahead of them the ambulance was speeding up and Steve prayed that inside Danno was okay. McGarrett looked down at Williams' blood on his hands and clothing and felt sick to the stomach – so much pain for his young kaikaina.

_A very long day for us all,_ he thought. _But at least I have you back Danno_.

The journey to Queens Hospital seemed to last forever.

On arrival the doors of the ambulance were thrown open and they stretchered Wiliams onto the waiting gurney and rushed him inside. He looked so still that Steve feared the worst might have happened on the journey back, but the barely perceptible rise and fall of Danno's chest reassured him.

"Patient's name?" a nurse asked coldly at the door.

"Dan Williams." Steve replied and she made a note on her pad, asking more details about the patient as they followed the path of the gurney.

He and Kono were almost shoved aside in the duty doctor's haste to see his patient. The same nurse who had been so businesslike noticed Steve holding his arm and the blood soaking his shirt so she inquired, more gently this time, if he was injured and if so to accompany her.

Steve was tempted to say no but realized that he could do nothing more for Danny and reluctantly admitted his wound hurt a lot. He agreed and left Kono to follow Williams and the doctors down the hallway to the emergency room.

When they got there Kono tried to go through the double doors with his friend but was told no admittance. Sweating with concern he loosened his tie before seeking out a water fountain to take a well earned drink. He hadn't had a break since early that morning, neither had he eaten, and Kono's stomach growled with hunger.

In the treatment cubicle, Steve's injury was assessed as superficial even though it was extremely painful, and the nurse helped him to take his shirt off. The tip of the blade was still imbedded near his collarbone but with the administration of a localised painkiller she managed to locate the metal and using tweasers pulled it out slowly. Steve winced but was determined not to make any more noise than that, not when Danny was lying on a table somewhere nearby with twenty times the number of wounds on him than he had.

"I'm afraid you'll need some stitches in that," she popped the metal tip with a '_ting'_ into a kidney dish then prepared a needle and stitched his wound skillfully before following it up with a shot of antibiotics.

The tension of the past hours was catching up with McGarrett and he was keen to get back to Danny to find out how he was before he collapsed in a heap somewhere. He couldn't recall a day when he had felt more exhausted, the visions of torture and cruelty taking their toll on even his strong constitution. He curtly thanked the nurse and redressed, rushing out of the cubicle and back to the emergency area like a speeding bullet.

Danny Williams lay on boiled sheets whilst they checked his vitals. He was barely conscious, drifting in and out as the pain washed over him. Eventually an analgesic would alleviate his agony but he had put up with so much under Cooke's knife that he had almost grown accustomed to raw nerve endings screaming at him.

McGarrett pushed the doors open to the hospital room, despite Kono's warning, and waltzed right in, trusting the force of his personality would carry him to his Second-in-Command's beside. Once inside the room he chose not to interfere out of respect for the swift aid his friend was receiving. They were so busy that no one gave his presence a thought and Steve was profoundly grateful for even a few seconds close to the young man, particularly when he saw Dan was awake and in need of a friendly face to reassure him. Steve caught his eye and smiled; despite the fact he was safe, Danny still looked haunted and scared. He couldn't blame his detective, McGarrett was too. He badly wanted to clutch his friend's hand against the pain.

Steve didn't speak but his eyes never left the table where Williams lay gripped with agony. He sent thoughts of sympathy and comfort, hoping Danno was able to sense his support.

They had cut what little remained of Williams' torn clothing off him and were in the process of carefully easing off blood-soaked shoes and socks. Danny's feet were a mess and he cried out pitifully as the sticky blood pulled away from damaged flesh. The sound of his anguish stabbed McGarrett through the heart. Steve was horrified at the amount of cuts, bruises and blood he saw on his friend's body. He also noted that the wounded man was drenched in sweat and knew that couldn't be good. Under the harsh lights of the examination room there was nothing left to the imagination and it looked even more awful than it had in the gloomy hut. Over the years, Steve had seen many grotesque acts of violence perpetrated on the human form but somehow seeing this happen to Danno made them all pale by comparison, this was too close to home for it not to be.

Finally sensing a foreign presence in his domain, the doctor turned to McGarrett and tried to shoo him out of the room but Steve stood his ground.

"I'm Head of Five-0 doctor and that is _my_ detective lying there!" He said possessively. Behind him Danny couldn't help but smile. McGarrett wished Doc Bergman was there, perhaps he would have let him stay close by his 2-I-C.

"Yes, yes I appreciate that and I know who you are sir but you have to understand that we are still ascertaining what we are dealing with here and you are cluttering up my emergency room so please, for the sake of the patient if nothing else, please wait outside!" He prodded McGarrett through the doors backwards.

"What's your name doctor?" Steve asked with more than a hint of a threat in it as he banged through the door.

"Reynolds and you can take up any concerns you may have with the hospital board _after_ I have administered to that man in there!"

Steve made to protest but he could see that in this instance Danny was in too much need of attention and nodded his aquiescence.

"Thank you Mr McGarrett now I promise you that as soon as we have anything to report we will tell you. I suggest you wait in the waiting room."

The doors flung back and Steve was left in the corridor to pace with Kono, leaving Danny to the mercy of strangers.

Turning back to his patient Doctor Reynolds tutted under his breath and resumed his examinination of the young man on the table. "He doesn't mean to be like that, it's just he cares." Dan managed to say sleepily as he began fading from the shock and drugs.

"Well he can care outside!" Was the stern reply.

The doctor noted a serious swelling to the right side of Williams' face where his cheek had taken the impact from the tire iron. There was bleeding into the eye and the health of the optic nerve was cause for concern. Another, similar gash on Dan's temple had re-opened and he cleaned away blood to get a better look at it.

"I need a set of X-rays." he ordered.

A bite mark to Williams' lower lip had swollen up and his neck had dark bruises on it suggesting some kind of ligature was used to strangle him. Following the injuries down, he located several shallow stab wounds to the platysma muscle and when he carefully lifted Danny's arms he saw the excised skin that had been sliced from the underside. As he moved the arm back Williams couldn't help but grimace as white hot pain lanced through him despite the painkilling drugs. Reynold's eye twitched in sympathy but he said nothing. There were cuts and contusions everywhere, his patient was a mass of damage from head to foot.

"What happened here?" The doctor said as much to himself as his patient.

"..mad…man." Was all Danny managed before he was finally overwhelmed by darkness.

"Doctor Reynolds, look at his hand." The nurse said clinically.

Each digit was bloody. Someone had sliced the webbing between them with a blade, the tips of Danny's index and thumb were also cut; possibly defensive wounds. Now Reynolds winced thinking about the how painful it must have been, he was also amazed no artery had been severed.

Along Williams' sternum all the way down to the top of his belly button was yet another ragged cut. "It looks like someone performed botched surgery on him," he said to no one in particular and shook his head.

The catalogue of wounds continued; contusions to ribs, partially dislocated shoulder, cuts to hip and thigh together with scratch marks around that whole area. Multiple stab wounds to the feet and toes and if that wasn't enough both wrists and ankles were still entwined in bloodied material that looked to be nylon.

As the nurses cut off the strips they saw the skin underneath was abraided and red raw from where the nylons had bitten into him.

They turned Danny's naked body gently onto his side but aside from more bruises, they saw nothing. No one spoke as they moved diligently around their insensible patient; they simply identified each new wound as it presented itself for treatment.

There was a great deal of dirt and some fabric in Danny's injuries which was a very real threat. His wounds would be irrigated but a heavy dose of antibiotics was crucial to counteract the germs. Reynolds knew the patient's immune system was already being bombarded with scores of bacteria and told the nurses to make preparations to set Danny up in intensive care as soon as possible with intravenous fluids and antibiotics. More tests would have to be done but looking at the inflammation already building around each wound, infection had already set in which meant they were all in for a rough ride.

Taking off his gloves and binning them, he checked to make sure his patient was as comfortable as possible, under the circumstances, and went to face the stern McGarrett, admitting to himself that the Five-0 boss's reputation preceded him and that he could be in for a tough conversation.

Doctor Reynolds straightened his back and came out of the examination room to meet McGarrett and the other man whom he took to be another detective. He wiped the back of his hand across his forehead and steeled himself for trouble.

Waving them onto a padded bench in the hallway he sat down beside them and crossed his legs.

"How's Danno Doctor?" Steve asked anxiously.

Reynolds chewed on his lip thoughtfully. "Well mister McGarrett that's hard to say at the moment since we've not done any of the tests we need to. At this stage I can say mister Williams appears to be stable and that he has a number of injuries, none of which in themselves ought to be life threatening although with the head injuries I need to do more tests to make sure. We are monitoring him closely."

"You said ought' not to be a threat to his life – does that mean they could be?"

"Your man has a concussion, perhaps a skull and cheek fractures. He has a dislocated shoulder, cracked or broken ribs and a number of bruises which in time will heal. However aside from the head injuries, my main concern is the lacerations. If the infection is acute there is has a high chance he won't survive."

Steve stood up immediately, unable to believe what he was hearing delivered so bodly on the heels of Danny's rescue, "Hang on doctor. What are you saying? You just told us the injuries were probably not life-threatening and now you're telling us Williams may die? This is crazy, you have him in hospital don't you? You're treating him aren't you?!"

"Yes but you have to understand…"

"No – YOU understand…Danno has been tortured by a madman, he's a cop doctor and a damned good one I won't let him die because some lunatic with a knife gets his jollies from hurting people. He can't die and he won't! He won't be this man's last victim!"

The doctor tried to calm him down, "Mister McGarrett please calm yourself, this is a hospital and the patients here need rest."

Kono got up and put a hand on his boss' arm only to have it thrown off him as Steve paced back and forth, "Hey Steve be cool, ain't no sensing in blowing it before the doc here has explained. Listen to what the man has to say bruddah, for Danny's sake."

Steve stared at the Hawaiian and the pleading look in Kalakua's brown eyes was enough to calm him somewhat. "Okay. Tell us doc."

Reynolds was grateful that he could finally speak, "You have to understand the problem is the lacerations. There are significant wounds to his skin, which is an organ, and from the condition Mister Williams was in when he got to us it is clear than many of those injuries are now exhibiting signs of inflammation and bacterial infection. Sepsis."

"Sepsis is blood poisoning right?" Steve looked to Reynolds for confirmation.

"Indeed, _poisoning_ being the operative word here gentlemen. Please sir sit down, I find it hard to look up at someone of your height, it's very uncomfortable."

Reluctantly Steve sat as the doctor continued. "There is a common misconception that cuts and grazes cannot kill you but that's far from the truth. The smallest rose thorn can kill someone which is why it is so important to clean a wound immediately and exhibit excellent hygiene with any damage to the skin." He took a breath before continuing "It appears that foreign objects have been driven into the stab wounds and Williams' body is now responding to a massive invasion of bacteria; which even with our help he may not be able to fight."

Kono heard the grave pronouncement and asked, "Surely antibiotics will sort him out?"

"We have started him on a massive doses of antibiotics but he is already weak from his other injuries. I'm sorry but you need to know that it may be too late."

"Too late? TOO LATE?! You have Danno inside this state-of-the-art hospital how can it be too late?" McGarrett's jaw was clenched tightly from anger again and he threatened to boil over like Kilauea.

To his credit Doctor Reynolds stayed calm having had a great deal of experience dealing with relatives in denial. McGarrett was no different although, Reynolds had to admit to himself; a tougher nut than most. It was clear he cared deeply about his colleague.

"When someone develops sepsis it's because the body over-responds to infection; typically there will be chills, fever, his heart beat will rise dangerously and breathing can become difficult. He is already experiencing most of these symptoms. Tests will be done but it is possible his white blood count will be elevated and he may require blood transfusions." The doctor saw the strain on the two officers' faces as he dealt the news. "I think you need to know that if Williams' body goes into septic shock then he could experience kidney or heart failure and then..."

Danno could die? The doctor hadn't said the dreaded word but it was there nonetheless, like a black pall hanging over them. It wasn't possible after all they had been through that this could be the end of the story. He couldn't lose Williams – not this way. He had promised his aikane he was safe.


	10. Chapter 10

CHAPTER 1

The world outside was cold and dangerous and despite Steve's reassurances Danny Williams still felt vulnerable. Steve said he was safe but there was no sanctuary in this life. No one was protected – ever; but especially in one's own subconscious. The Bogeyman lay in wait for the unsuspecting, ready to gnaw on their bones.

Although he appeared to be sleeping peacefully there was a world of torment going on underneath Dan's wan complexion. The torment was both mental and physical. His heart beat faster as the dreams became more vivid and his body became his own worst enemy, fighting itself as the poisoning battled for supremacy.

He knew deep down that he was released from the monster but his mind kept running over his hours in captivity; it felt like weeks of his life had decayed before him.

"_I want you to run for me Danny Walker. RUN!"_ but he couldn't run, his limbs were like lead and he was incapable of moving a muscle, he knew he would be punished so he tried curling into a ball to protect himself from the agony meted out to him; but the noise wouldn't stop and he couldn't run and the punishment would never end, each slice of the blade brought him closer to death.

"_They call me Cutter!" Do you know why? Because I like to cut things!"_

SLASH!

"You're here for one purpose and one purpose only and that's to satisfy my needs!"

SLASH!

"Que sera, sera Danny boy"

SLASH!

"You think you're so clever!"

_SLASH!_

"_Cutter, Cutter CUTTER!"_

Slash Slash _SLASH!!_

She was a form of life and light that seen enters into light.

'Dan come find me……be with me.'"Jane? Steve?"BEEEEEPPPPPPppppppp

"Code blue cardiac arrest!"

"Someone secure his airway, we need to get his heart started again. Get Reynolds and I need that defibrillator stat!"

"CODE BLUE EMERGENCY ROOM 21"

The voice came over the PA system and Reynolds quickly excused himself, racing away before McGarrett could ask any more questions. He hurried back through the double doors and all that Steve saw between them was the flurry of white surrounding his second once more.

He and Kono jumped up and ran to the doors unsure what the code meant. Determined to find out, Steve pushed his way through but this time was spotted immediately.

"GET HIM OUT OF HERE!" Reynolds shouted but Steve was so shocked he couldn't move. Kono pulled his arm from behind understanding that whatever they were doing it was in Danny's best interests and that the situation was serious, "Come on Steve, they need to work," McGarrett retreated backwards without any other encouragement, the image of hands massaging Danny's naked chest and the ominous bleep of the heart monitor giving him the answer to his question.

Steve shrugged off Kalakua's arm and stood silently transfixed behind the door, aware he was in the way if someone came out but he didn't care. If that was the closest he could get to Danno then that was right where he would stay, fifteen feet from his officer. It was inconceivable that his closest friend was dying without him there to hold his hand, cajole and encourage the young man to fight. He NEEDED Danny to stay alive, words could never say what he truly felt in his heart, they were all so inadequate but he wouldn't be cheated of the companionship he had longed for and been gifted with. Williams was more important to him than he would ever dare admit. To lose him because of a villainous piece of garbage would send McGarrett spiraling into the depths of depression and he doubted he would survive the plunge.

Behind him Kono sighed, aware that his boss would stand vigil until someone physically hauled him away but that someone wouldn't be him. He trusted that Danny would pull through but the doctor's words made him doubt his faith. He felt impotent – unable to help either his sick friend or the one standing before him whose heart was bleeding. These men were his ohana and his family was breaking apart because of the way he had failed them both. He couldn't help remembering how distracted he had been and how, if he had carried on looking, he might have been able to find Danny before Cooke got to him or shortly afterwards. If he'd gone looking anywhere but the beach he could have found them. He could have SAVED him!

Suddenly McGarrett turned around and stared at his officer before squeezing his arm in sympathy. Kono froze, his soulful, teary eyes telling the story of his feelings. Steve had picked up on his detective's guilty vibe and wanted to reassure the big Hawaiian, knowing he had been hard on him earlier. Now wasn't the time for recriminations – self or otherwise. "You did nothing wrong Kono," Steve offered. "I know it's hard but I suspect it would have always ended this way, when Danno met Cooke we may never have found him even if you had searched all day. Don't beat yourself up about it bruddah. Danno wouldn't want you to, and I don't want you to."

Surprised at his boss' intuition and kindness, Kono nodded, grateful for the words of support. He still felt bad but at least McGarrett wasn't blaming him and he knew Steve was right – Danny was never the kind of person to hold a grudge. But Kalakua blamed himself and it wouldn't go away that easily.

Without further word Steve returned to his post, now oblivious to Kono or the world around him, trembling inside – terrified that the door might suddenly open and he would hear the three words he dreaded. He was rooted to the spot, entirely focused on the imagined scenes inside and the face of his comrade and friend as he lay dying.

"Come on Danno, don't let me down aikane..you have to pull through, for me!" He whispered.

&

"And again!!"

"Clear."

Electricity shot through Danny's body and his back arched as he jolted.

Beeeeepppppp.

Flatline. Checking the monitors a nurse shook her head.

"Again!"

Beeeeeepppppp. No response.

"Okay Danny, you can do this – come on! One more – for McGarrett!"

"Ready?"

"Clear."

"For McGarrett Williams – he'll kill me if you die!" Bang – another shock, another jolt and Dan's body rose up and down.

Beeeeeppp…blip…blip…blip..

This time the nurse smiled as Danny's heart began beating again.

"Yes! Okay he's back, thank God! Normal sinus rhythm. Let's get him stabilized and up to ICU."

Ten minutes passed and somehow McGarrett instinctively knew the doors would open when they did. He stepped aside and a drawn-looking doctor Reynolds came out. Surprised at Steve's proximity he turned to both men, face blank.

"Danno?" McGarrett asked anxiously, dreading the look on the man's face.

Kono looked at Steve then back to the doctor, trying to read the unreadable, "Doc?" he asked.

"Only just."

"Only just WHAT doctor? Dead, alive, what?!"

"Alive. He went into cardiac arrest, we managed to get him back – his vitals are more stable now but he'll be monitored closely. They'll be taking him up to the ICU shortly. I'm sorry gentlemen, I told you this was going to be a rough ride. He's weakening from the infection and although we're trying to combat it he will get worse before he gets better - _if_ he gets better."

McGarrett's jaw clenched, "Worse! How much worse can it get doctor? Danno died in there!"

Reynolds studied the Five-0 chief and new that anything less than the truth would not be tolerated by such as McGarrett, "Much worse. His suffering will be acute. Patients with sepsis are critical, so much can go wrong, even now his other organs are under tremendous strain. If treatment doesn't begin soon the effects may be irreversible, alongside the antibiotics his tissues need to be saturated with oxygen, Danny may need blood transfusions, possibly dialysis and we will need to do a lot of tests. He has a fever and his heart and breathing rate are dangerously elevated, eventually he could suffer from acute renal failure, meningitis of the brain and spinal cord and his organs will begin to fail – amongst other things! So you see he could still die but it won't be a pleasant departure. If his heart gives up next time we may not be able to bring him back. That's how much worse mister McGarrett but if you want more I'll give you the cold hard facts; the mortality rate for what your man is suffering from is anywhere between forty and sixty percent!"

McGarrett couldn't answer, he was trying to assimilate the dreadful truth, shocked beyond belief that his friend had been through torture and rescued from the hands of death only to suffer more after the fact whilst Roger Cooke, man who had abused and murdered, was lying comfortably in a hospital bed with just a minor wound to recover from. It wasn't fair! Life was so damned unfair.

Kono listened to the odds with a leaden heart, he needed to find out if his guilt was justified and asked, "Doc, if we'd found Danny earlier would his chances have been better?"

"Of course! For one thing I assume this madman wouldn't have inflicted so much damage on the patient and for another – every hour without the appropriate antibiotic treatment and medical attention reduced mister Williams' chances by as much as seven percent."

"Please can I see him?" McGarrett suddenly asked before Kono could respond, Steve's voice that was so quiet and sad that the doctor was taken aback.

The doctor canted his head and nodded, "They'll wheel him out, you can follow them to the ICU if you like but I'm afraid I'm going to have to insist on no visitors for a while. With his system under attack anything can lay him low and we can't risk that. I'm sorry mister McGarrett, he seemed like he was a good man."

Kono saw Steve flinch as though he was hit with a physical blow. Without being able to stop what he knew was about to happen, Kono stepped forward as McGarrett suddenly pushed the medico against the corridor wall, arm pressed across his neck and growled at him, like an injured lion, "DANNO'S NOT DEAD! YOU TAKE THAT BACK!"

"Please Steve, let him go! It was a slip of the tongue. Boss please!"

Reynolds was wide-eyed and stunned. If he didn't know differently he would think the Five-0 chief had gone stark raving mad. "I….I didn't mean that..." McGarrett thumped him hard against the wall again, "OW! Please McGarrett… I only meant when he was awake, he seemed like a good man.!"

"IS…IS!!"

"Boss!! Stop this!"

"He IS a good man! I'm sorry…truly I am."

Steve let go of the man and thumped a fist into the wall next to him. The commotion brought a nurse out from the Emergency room but after surveying the scene and Reynolds shaking his head, she retreated back inside, unsure what was going on.

Another slap to the plaster, this time with McGarrett's palm and, stifling a sob, he turned back to face the doctor as the man peeled himself away and straightened his clothing. "I've a good mind to have you thrown out of here!" Reynolds said, with false bravado.

"Just you try it!" McGarrett leaned toward him menacingly only to be stopped by Kalakua's strong hands pressed against his chest. Kono stared at Steve, daring him to continue. "Uh-uh no good boss, he's da man that's looking after Danno. Don't screw with the help bruddah!"

Reynolds softened, knowing that it was the bond between the two men that made the detective the way he was. After all Bergman had told him about Williams and McGarrett he was surprised he hadn't listened more closely. The coroner was right – they were inseparable _and_ insufferable!

"Look I apologize, I genuinely meant nothing by it. I know you're worried. I can't tell you his chances any clearer than that and naturally I'm sorry he's suffering but I won't retract what I said before – the odds of him coming through this are marginal at best."

"Better than no chance at all – DOCTOR!" Steve hissed.

"Indeed.." Giving up his efforts to inform, or console, he was just about to leave when the doors opened and the gurney came out with Danny Williams on it, feet first and looking, if possible, worse than before. He was swathed in bandages and orange iodine and hooked up to all manner of things.

"Danno!" Steve rushed to his friend's side, edging to get as close as possible in between the paraphernalia and bodies surrounding him. Kono moved aside and followed respectfully behind as McGarrett found a way to touch his officer's shoulder with his fingertips, frantically needing to have contact with the unconscious, abused man.

They made their way to the ICU without a word, Kono feeling like a pall bearer at a funeral. Dan's face was bruised and gray; were it not for the shallow rise of his chest with the oxygen forcing its way into his lungs Kalakua would swear that his little brother was dead.

Seven percent. With every hour in the hands of that evil killer Dan's chances had reduced by seven percent. Kono felt sick.

&


	11. Chapter 11

CHAPTER 11

Pacing pacing pacing. What good did pacing ever do? It didn't exercise the mind or answer problems – it was simply a substitute for smoking or some other way to alleviate nerves. McGarrett abhorred drugs in any form, he never drank or polluted his body with the filth some people tried for a kick. Now though he would have given his right arm for something to salve the nerves, stop the worry and bring him peace. If he had been a nail biter he would have done that too.

With weary honesty he understood the only solution to his problem was to have the all clear on Williams – if he could just hear the magic he will be fine' words perhaps he could get on with his life. As it was all was on hold. It felt wrong to continue like nothing had happened – he ate to keep his strength up, slept when absolutely necessary and put a guarded face on when questioned about his officer's condition. Other than that it was work or vigil – no other choice.

If he wasn't pacing in the hospital, he was at work doing the same - up and down in front of his familiar desk, fingers snapping reflexively – a nervous habit he wasn't able to break when tense. He snapped at others too and that made him even more disgruntled. He just hoped they understood it wasn't them – it was the situation. Fate had placed Danny Williams on the same road as the killer and it was fate who now held the key to his friend's survival. He cursed it.

Steve was dog tired, burning away the midnight oil in order to be available by Williams' beside if necessary during the day. It wore him out but was nothing compared to what his second-in-command was going through. Others offered to take over his post at the hospital but none managed to get him to relinquish what he saw as his solemn duty to a friend and officer. It was only fitting since each time he had been ill or injured, Dan had been there beside him. That was what brothers did for each other and in truth his young protégé was more that than anything else.

Days had passed since they almost lost the detective and already much life-saving had taken place. Doctor Reynolds explained what they had done, or might need to do, in graphic detail; transfusion, antibiotics, bacteremia, mechanical ventilation, possible hemodialysis or endocarditis, arrythmia and so on and so forth – just words and names. None of it meant anything to him or even stayed in his mind barring the one lonely thought – that Danno might still die of a multitude of complications. Each time he saw his 2IC something else was taking place, some new medical method of purging his system of the toxic effects of the sepsis. Cut to ribbons Williams was now fighting for his life.

One afternoon, after a day from hell in the office, Steve found himself by Danny's beside just staring down into the face that up until the day of his kidnapping, had been glowing with health. Now Danno had a pallor that reminded him of the wax works he had seen in museums – surreal and ghost-like it scared him and in a ridiculously childish reaction he wanted to run away, instead he reached out and touched the fever-heated skin, just brushing Dan's face with his fingertips.

From somewhere inside, Danny felt the connection and roused from his insensible state. His breathing was awful, like a rasping bag as he drew in vital oxygen and processed it, the act of becoming conscious almost too tiring for him and it was all he could do to flicker his eyelids open and stare at the person who had woken him from the black hole of nightmares.

Danny turned and, through eyes that were watery from a high temperature and underlying pain, focused on Steve's concerned face. Something barely definable crossed his features as Cooke's last victim locked gaze with the person who had saved his life and said a silent _thank you_. That choked McGarrett up.

Steve carefully picked up a bandaged hand and simply held his palm underneath, not hurting Dan but needing to touch him nevertheless, "You're welcome Danno." Danny's eyes wrinkled – the most he could manage but it was enough to make McGarrett smile. "The doctor says you're beating this." A lie but one he wanted to hear anyway. Dan's eyes shut – a good detective uncovered lies and Williams was a very good detective. Steve corrected himself, "Okay my friend, I am the one who says you're beating it. You have to! You can't let this take you down Danno – there are too many more important things for you to do with your life and that scum won't get the satisfaction of winning – I won't let him! One day you may even make Governor of this State – how can you do that if you give up now? You're too important - to me and to everyone who knows you. Be strong and get well."

Eyes blinked, accompanied by the smallest shake of Williams' head and a tiny squeeze of his own fingertips on top of the Five-0 chief's. He wouldn't give up. It wasn't much - but it was more than Steve had started the day with.

Danny pulled his hand up from McGarrett's and staring strangely at his friend drew something on Steve's open palm with his index finger. It was the letter L'.

"What is it?" Another tired attempt. "L? What are trying to say Danno?" He finally twigged, "Lizzie? You want to know where Elizabeth is?" Dan closed his eyes and opened them again in agreement. He looked sad. It was then McGarrett realized that he had not seen Elizabeth Grant, Dan's girlfriend there. The whole time Steve had been sitting or pacing at the detective's bedside not once had he seen her coming or going! He found it odd considering how close he had heard they were and felt sympathy for his friend.

There had been a constant stream of messages from well-wishers, friends, acquaintances, colleagues and reporters – some of them tried to visit but all were turned back with a polite update as to the officer's condition. Even John Manicote and Governor Jameson had to wait. Only those from the Five-0 family' and Dan's relatives would be able to get past the tight security and then for only a few minutes at a time, but Lizzie had been added to the list of possible visitors – so why hadn't she come? McGarrett assumed from Danno's inquiry that she hadn't been during the times he wasn't there either which was strange.

"I'm sure there's a good reason she hasn't been to see you, or maybe she has but you haven't noticed, you've been pretty much out of it my friend!" He said gently, "In fact the doctors think it best you don't have many visitors so perhaps she stayed away because of that." Steve was clutching at straws, he wasn't doing it for Elizabeth's sake but for Danno's. In the young man's condition any stress was bound to be detrimental to his health. If Miss Grant hadn't attempted to visit that was a black mark in McGarrett's book. He wanted to protect his friend from anything that could cause him to lose the will to fight. If Lizzie didn't care enough to be at his bedside then in his book she was gone already. He would talk to her and find out what was going on, whether it was his business or not. Where Danny was concerned he would do his best to protect him from emotional harm, especially when he failed so badly to save him from physical injury.

"She'll be here when you're feeling up to it." Steve offered but Danny knew what he had known would happen for a long time – he and the job had forced her away. A single tear meandered down his cheek, he had lost again. Jane had meant so much to him, he had almost joined her and now, in some ways he wished he had done. To have been through so much in the hands of an inhuman monster and face being alone was too much to bear. He wanted to leave now, he was tired, so very tired.

Studying Dan's face, Steve saw him withdraw from the conversation pulling his arm back to flop on the bedside and closing his eyes, seeing it as bad sign he said quickly, "Hey, hey I know what you're thinking and you're wrong my friend, dead wrong – you are not alone!" The last thing Dan heard as he slipped back into darkness was his boss and mentor's broken whisper, "I'll never let you down I promise you Danno, so long as I have a breath left in my body – you won't be alone."

-&-&-&-

Lizzie Grant crossed her long legs, instantly on the defensive from the questions being thrown at her so abruptly. She sat up straighter in the chair opposite Steve's desk and bristled. McGarrett had invited her for a chat over coffee the morning after his visit to Williams, ostensibly to get to know the woman, but she had barely stepped over the threshold before the lead detective began to interrogate her like a suspect.

"I'm sorry Mister McGarrett, I wanted to see Danny I truly did!" she offered.

"But?" Steve asked shirtily as he watched the petite woman fidget with her hands. So far she had avoided direct eye contact, either because she was scared of being grilled by her lover's boss or because she was feeling guilty – he hadn't quite worked out which yet – but he would.

There was no doubt the woman was attractive, and strong too from the way she handled herself but there was something about her that McGarrett couldn't quite put his finger on – nothing overt, just a hunch that she wasn't the right one for Danno. He hoped he was wrong.

The young woman sighed and traced a hand through her long shiny hair, pulling it back over her shoulders self-consciously. "I didn't want to believe the truth and seeing him in hospital – well that would mean I had to face the fact that his job is a dangerous one and that I might lose Dan one day. I'd dismissed it from my mind before but now it's real and I can't pretend any more."

"Miss Grant," Steve began.

"Lizzie."

"..Elizabeth, what happen to Danno has nothing to do with the job – he was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time."

This time she did look up, "Sorry but that's not true, Danny is always on the job – whether I like it or not! He lives for his career Mister McGarrett – he hero worships you – talks about you and this place, the Palace, constantly. It's like a religion with him; catching bad guys and fighting for justice by your side. That leaves little room for us – can't you see that? Whatever happened on that street the day he was kidnapped wasn't just an ordinary citizen walking down the road and being pounced on – it was Dan looking out for problems, helping people, trying to heal the world! I can't compete, not unless he leaves Five-0."

McGarrett's jaw clenched, not in his lifetime! "Yes it's hard to face the facts, but facts they are Miss Grant. His instinct is for police work and Dan Williams is one of the best detectives on the force – he won't easily give that up to play house with someone, but you push him into a corner and he just might. He believes the best of people and he will give you everything if it means making you happy at his expense, but I'm telling you now that if you do he will be like a caged animal, he'll feel trapped. He won't admit it but it will kill him just the same, little by little the man you have come to know won't exist any more. If you can't see that then you're not the woman he needs and perhaps you are best to leave him but NOW is not the time to do it, not whilst he's hurting!" he drew in a deep breath and added, "I know it's none of my business but he would like to see you."

"You're right it is none of your business but whatever you may think of me I still care about him very much. Please…please tell him I'm sorry but I just can't face it right now!"

Steve got up and turned to the window, not seeing the skyline beyond but lost in his thoughts, he was angry at Lizzie's cowardice after so much bravery on Danno's part, "Tell him yourself – AFTER he's survived what that maniac did to him because right now he's fighting for his life and needs all the positive support he can get. He thinks he's alone – too many people have died around Danny over the years and just maybe he believes it's time to join them!"

"You can't be serious Mister McGarrett? Dan's very level-headed!" Lizzie said with surprise.

Steve turned back to his guest, ready to spit tacks, "I don't think you know him as well as you think you do! He's insecure and with good reason from what he's been through in the past. If Danno thinks for one moment that the fight is not worth bothering about then he's done for. You sit there selfishly spouting off how much it will hurt YOU to see him – well how about thinking of him!? Do something for the person you claim to care about – give him another reason to hang on. Give him some hope Elizabeth – bring Danny back safely. If you do that you will have my undying gratitude and then you can cut loose, but understand that if you hurt him you won't be welcome around here. He means too much to us all."

The famous Five-0 ohana, Dan's adopted family' and one of the reasons why they would never stay together, Lizzie thought. She was an outsider and wished he was free, the truth was he was married already. McGarrett was right – she was being selfish. "I'll see him." She said at last.

"And tell him what?"

"That I can't tell you, I don't want to hurt Dan but I don't know myself yet. Que sera, sera, I guess." Lizzie said unknowingly and it sent a shiver down McGarrett's spine.

-&-&-&-

Lizzie did as she had promised but it took time for her to build up her courage to see Danny, two full days went past without a sign of her presence barring a well-chosen but character-less card that wished him a speedy recovery - with love.

On the afternoon of the third day she drifted in with a warm smile, genuine tears, words of encouragement and a kiss on his forehead that spoke of friendship, not relationship. As she sat by the bedside studying the man she had come to care about she held his hand in a nervous grip, unaware that even that caused him intense discomfort as his healing wounds throbbed. She hadn't meant to speak her mind – had promised McGarrett she wouldn't, but little by little it came pouring forth.

"Dear Danny," she began, looking into his dulled blue eyes then swiftly away as his frank gaze became too much to bear, "I always thought that it was so romantic in the movies when the hero got hurt and returned home to the love of a good woman. But I now know that reality isn't like the films, what you're going through isn't romantic at all, just torment. I never intended to add to that pain, nor did I ever think that I would leave someone in a time of need but now I understand why you kept me away from becoming a part of your work.

Reality is down and dirty isn't it? Your precious Steve thinks what happened to you that day was simply bad luck but the truth is were you not a noble blend of policeman and gentleman then you probably wouldn't be lying here recovering from a nightmare. I don't think I can live with the knowledge that sometime in the future you could be hurt again - or worse. I wish you were a plumber or fisherman or something pedestrian - not a policeman who is the line of fire every day. I don't want to see you suffer.

McGarrett is a good friend to you Dan, he wanted me to support you, not hurt you and he's right I should be more caring right now but I don't think I can lie to you either. This happened for a reason and although we would both prefer it hadn't I get the sense that you were pulling back from me before then. Tell me I'm wrong darling. Tell me the force isn't your life and I'll stay."

She was crying now and Danny slowly brought a stiff finger up to wipe away her tears. He couldn't say anything, he was too unhappy listening to the truth. There was no way he could do as she asked, not with the knowledge that there were many more Cookes out there, waiting in the shadows for the unsuspecting. Someone had to protect and serve for the sake of people like Lizzie Grant – and that someone was him. He had already lost Jane to a murderer, he wasn't going to lose one more person he cared about to criminals and killers. The job was his vocation and life. He would protect her by letting her go but it hurt more than the knife wounds, losing someone he cared about cut him deeper than Cooke's blade ever could.

"If I walk away Dan does that let you off the hook?" she laughed nervously and sniffled. Four minutes to lose a lover.

Danny drew in a ragged breath, chest heaving with his own unshed tears. He squeezed her hand back with all the strength he could muster. It was hard coping with her loss as well as waging an internal battle for control of his body, with one last glazed look at her beautiful face he faded back into unconsciousness, where imaginary monsters lay in wait.

Seeing Danny so ill was more of a shock than she realized and it was hard walking away knowing he would need someone to help him through the long recovery. She knew Dan had his best friend to guide him through the bleak patches, McGarrett had demonstrated as much with his unwavering presence at Williams' side. Deep down she knew that he would be fine without her.

Tucking his hand gently under the bed sheet she leaned down and kissed him on the forehead, stroking his damp curls one last time. "Now cracks a noble heart. Goodnight sweet prince; And flights of angels sing thee to thy rest! I'll miss you Danny."

-&-&-&-

As each day passed the papers printed stories relating to the crime that got progressively smaller and smaller, from headline to byline until one day, they stopped completely, pushed aside by more relevant news and gossip. They would start up again, when Williams went back to the mainland to testify but until then Cutter Cooke was old news.

All this time the man himself was languishing in a top-security prison with no hope of escape. Like his victim, he had few visitors but unlike Williams he was well and even happy, having vainglorious memories to sustain him through the cold, dark nights. In his dreams he went all the way with the man they called Danny Williams – he used him and slashed him in a thousand different ways until the young man begged for release from his torment then breathed his last strangled breath. He tortured, maimed, abused and killed him a dozen times a day and never got bored with his creativity. Each evening Cooke sat on his bed, hunched into the corner of the cell just staring at the imaginary blood on his hands, rich, thick and red – cop's blood. He refused to accept his last victim was still alive, that would be too much like failure.

During the long days, Cooke had begun writing again, admirers and accusers sent letters to the prison which he replied to as best he could under the circumstances. Knowing he was unable to speak freely he used a code created months before to converse with a select few of these admirers. It was a childishly simple one to crack but he understood that the cops didn't look that closely at the mail, just ascertained what may, or may not, be offensive or dangerous. Roger's communications were, on the surface, harmless but hidden between their inky scrawls were messages to his fans. Disciples of pain.

He knew that his days were numbered, with the Hawaiian Five-0 detective's testimony they would close the door to the possibility of a reprieve – this time would be the last. No matter how hard his lawyers tried, the future was looking bleak. Que sera, sera. It had been fun while it lasted. He would compose his last will and testament to be sent out in the event of his execution and he took comfort in knowing that the future was _his_ to see.

-&-&-&-


	12. Chapter 12

CHAPTER 12

On the evening of the seventh day after Danny died there was significant improvement in the young man's condition. The efforts of the medical staff were bearing fruit; the poisons invading Williams' body were being overcome and his organs were functioning more normally. He was worn ragged from fighting the chills, fever and pain but for the first time in over a week he was beginning to feel less like an experiment of Doctor Frankenstein's and more like a human being. If only he could rid himself of the freakish visions he was having and the heavy cloud of depression hanging over his head.

As the doctor delivered his regular check-up Danny found himself answering the questions as to his well being automatically, his thoughts far away. He was thinking about Cooke and about Lizzie, a potent and melancholy combination.

The sun was low on the horizon when Steve McGarrett and Kono Kalakua earned themselves a break from a heavy day's crime busting and headed to the hospital to look in on their friend, unaware that Dan was unconsciously feeling the need of company. McGarrett was particularly anxious to know how his second fared since he was the one who had seen the balance tip back and forth day to day with Dan's condition. He had also been taking the heat from all sides regarding the serial killer's case and wanted to salve his feelings of guilt by seeing his friend's face again.

The two men had just been discussing their good fortune, solid police work having finally paid off in locating the person who slipped Cooke the deadly blades in Halawa. The man was a bottom feeder - pond-scum, a prisoner with connections outside and in. He wouldn't talk, maintaining that Cooke promised to pay him for help but nothing more. By deliberately injuring himself Cutter engineered a way to be sent to the prison hospital where the blades were slipped to him. Strict regulations surrounded the inventory of drugs and instruments so McGarrett knew he had to dig deeper to find the holes but for now he was content, the jigsaw puzzle was taking shape.

Doctor Reynolds was just leaving the room followed by a nurse when the two detectives headed in their direction. "Ah mister McGarrett!"

"How's he doing this evening Doctor?" Steve asked seriously ignoring all pleasantries.

"Good, improving steadily. I don't think I dare say any more than that at the moment since his system has been under significant stress - however I'm hopeful."

"Okay to go in Doc?" Kono asked behind Steve.

"Certainly, he's awake but don't tire him out. Mr Williams still needs a lot of rest."

Steve and Kono nodded their thanks and side-stepped the pair as they went on their way. Unsure why he did it, McGarrett adjusted his tie nervously before entering the room.

Danny was sitting propped up in bed, bandages on his upper body visible on all but the shallowest cuts which were now beginning to skin over. Even from a distance McGarrett could see there were still signs of infection and fever played around the corners of his face. His thick, wiry hair was dark with perspiration and he was slightly flushed, contrasting deeply with the gray pits under his eyes; he looked exhausted and sad.

Williams hadn't noticed them walk in, he was far too wrapped up in his own world.

"Yo Danny!" Kono offered in a loud greeting and for a brief moment a tentative smile of surprise could be seen, gratifying both men as they looked at their wounded colleague.

"Danno, how are you feeling today?" McGarrett asked and walking up to the bed wasted no time in picking up and holding the younger man's hand as he had done countless times in the past few days.

"Hi Steve, Kono - I'm okay." Was the weary response and o-kay' was just about all he felt. He was numb from everything, hardly noticing the supportive touch of his mentor.

"Mind if we sit down? I need to take the weight off my feet bruddah, not like some other lazy fella loafing around here!" Kono laughed, doing his best buddy impersonation for Williams' sake. Truth was, underneath it all he was feeling the effects of the gloomy mood in the room too; it was hard not to in hospitals – particularly knowing why his friend was there and how close he had come to death recently. Kono still felt guilty for his part in the matter despite Williams' reassurances there was nothing he could have done to find him after Cooke kidnapped him.

Danny feigned a bigger smile but it was easy to see through, "Any time you want to swap places you just let me know."

Kono pulled up a chair and sat down, the pre-formed plastic practically groaning from his weight. McGarrett preferred to stand, that way he could watch his officer's expressions and keep hold of him – he needed that somehow. Reynolds hadn't said the _He'll be fine'_ words and although Steve could sense it was getting closer; he just wasn't taking any chances.

"So how's da food eh?" Kalakua asked and Steve raised an eyebrow, smiling crookedly down at Danny as the younger man couldn't help but return the grin, sometimes it was impossible to be serious when Kono was around and for that Williams was grateful. Dan turned his head and looked fondly at the Hawaiian, "Ono loa my friend – delicious!"

Kono chuckled throatily, "Auî! You're one lousy liar man!"

They had only been there a few minutes but Dan could feel the warmth of their companionship and it did a lot toward pushing the darkness aside, albeit temporarily.

"Doc says you're getting better, hopefully you'll soon be out of here." Steve offered lightly, ignoring the quip from Kono.

And there it was; the curtain closed again.

"Yeah sure. I'll be running around in no time, just like I'll be able to use my hands again soon!" Danny said sardonically, kicking his damaged feet under the bed sheets and pulling his sliced fingers away from McGarrett. The moment he said the words he regretted them, it wasn't what his friends wanted to hear – nor was it their fault Cooke had tortured him! Two minutes' respite from the shadows and it all came tumbling back in on him. Steve frowned and Kono fell silent.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that," Williams said quietly.

Steve was compassionate, "No, it's okay – you're entitled to be bitter; I would be in your place. But he'll pay for what he did to you and the others, believe me – Roger Cooke will pay with his life!"

Williams looked at McGarrett, shocked at the hard statement and wondered if it was true, "Steve, you can't mean that!? They wouldn't…they couldn't – not because of me!? There's no death penalty here." He was frankly appalled at the thought.

"Danno, Cooke's time was up before he escaped, what he did to you was horrific but the tip of a deep and bloody iceberg – he was destined for the chair long before you came into the picture my friend; they've ruled out a re-trial – he killed three people on our soil and still has nine counts of murder in the first degree to answer for in Illinois, if anything this is about Stefani, Johnson and Keeley not you. Don't beat yourself up over that low-life scum – justice will be served whether we like it or not!"

What worried Williams was he wasn't sure just _what_ he liked. The man had killed so many people; tortured, abused and murdered them in cold blood but did that give the justice system the right to take his life? Perhaps so – in some States they certainly felt it did, but Dan couldn't bear to think that he was a part of that process or responsible for the man's last breath on earth. It was too much for him to cope with in his weakened state; he found his pulse racing.

"And my testimony? Will that be the nail in his coffin or just another part of the process?!"

"It's just necessary to close this case Danno."

"Hey bruddah," Kono interjected, "You can't beat yourself up over something you had no say in! The writing was on da wall with this guy – no matter what he did or didn't do on these islands – he's gonna pay with his life sure but that ain't your fault bro!"

Danny sighed heavily, he wasn't so sure that he wanted company any more, he felt like wallowing in his own pitiful thoughts and couldn't get Cooke's perverted features out of his head; day in-day out they haunted him along with the whistling. He was slashed over and over again until it made his head spin; remembered pain slicing its way through his healing wounds with the vicious promises of more to come. This would just make it ten times worse. He wished he had no say in it. But he was a policeman and, coincidentally, a victim and he had a duty to perform – regardless of the outcome. He would fulfill that duty to the letter – even if it meant the death warrant was more fully secured because of it. No – he reasoned – he wasn't responsible for Cooke's impending death, but part of him died that day too, in the shack when he broke down and begged for his life and nothing and no one could bring either of them back from the brink; it was far too late for that. It made him sick to the stomach.

"I think I'd like to rest now." Dan said and couldn't help the almost sulky tone with which he said it.

Steve knew – he understood why and was concerned that his friend was bleeding for Cooke even though Cooke was the one who had bled him – literally! "Danno, you can't let this get to you!"

Williams closed his eyes and imperceptibly banged his head on the pillow, berating himself for showing – yet again – his vulnerable side to McGarrett; it was bad enough that he was pushing them away without shedding tears for a psychopath into the bargain. But it wasn't the man himself he was upset for – more the idea that he would have to live with the burden of another life destroyed and gone. He didn't know what Cooke had done to the other victims although he surmised it was worse than what he had suffered, but he also didn't know the reason behind the sociopath's mental state; for all Danny knew Cooke could have been a victim himself as a child. It wasn't right that life held so little value in a society where human beings were supposed to have evolved. That too saddened him – mankind had come so far but made hardly any progress. If anything there were times when Williams felt they were devolving. When he saw the depths to which some people stooped it shocked him to the very core of his humanity. It was hardly a place to bring up children. Cooke was dangerous – he had to be stopped. Was Danny the silver bullet? Steve didn't think so, and Steve was always right. Wasn't he?

"Kono, would you mind leaving us for a moment?" Steve asked.

"Sure thing boss. Danny – when you come back to work I'm gonna have the biggest feast waiting for you bruddah – you're too skinny! Get well soon you hear?!"

"I look forward to it. Mahalo." Williams said without cheer and bit his lip, wondering just what McGarrett had to say to him.

As Kalakua walked out and closed the door behind him he watched Steve settle himself on the side of Dan's bed. If anyone could sort their kaikaina out, it was McGarrett.

Concerned only with his detective's well-being Steve addressed the younger man, "It's not just Cooke that's bothering you is it?" Williams looked away, giving McGarrett the answer to his question. "I know it's hard. From what I gather you were very close to Elizabeth but Danno that's not your fault either. You have to stop blaming yourself for other people's choices. Cooke made his the first time he wielded a knife and Elizabeth – well she chose to leave you at a time when you could have done with her support and I can't pretend that I understand that kind of choice."

Danny's look was distant and disturbed, "Lizzie and I would have never worked out, I guess I knew what this job does to relationships even before I started seeing her. I refuse to blame her for that, it's my fault not hers."

"There you go putting it on yourself again!"

"But it's true, I pushed her away. Being a part of Five-0 – it's a hard commitment if you want a wife and family. I don't know how Chin manages it."

Letting Elizabeth Grant see Danny had been a mistake, one McGarrett knew he had no right to deny either of them but despite his talk with young woman she had upset his friend and this was the result - a fountain of self-doubt and recriminations. Steve was barely able to contain his dislike of the girl. The fact that he himself had never been able to sustain a long-term relationship with his hours was neither here nor there – when the time was right for both of them they, and the department, would make allowances for it. Until then he didn't want Williams considering leaving unless he was absolutely certain his life would change for the better. He had to ask, even though he dreaded the answer deep in his soul.

"Are you saying you want to resign?"

If Dan felt ill before he felt worse now, the rush of conflicting emotions threatened to overwhelm him. If he could have moved from the bed and the tubes piercing his body he would have rushed from the room. No less anxious was his boss, the seconds ticking by as they both fell silent.

Finally Williams replied, unable to look the other man in the face, "I..I don't know Steve. Maybe."

Maybe wasn't definitely and that, combined with his second's weakened state had to be the reason for what McGarrett was hearing. He would fight to keep one of the best detectives on the force and his friend by his side. The thought of working in Five-0 without Williams was abhorrent to him. Time to defuse the situation. He could see the talk had cost Dan a lot of energy, the kid looked about ready to fade out.

McGarrett soothingly rubbed Williams' uninjured shoulder, "If that's what you want I won't stand in your way but you've been through a lot recently and I'm pretty sure that you're not thinking straight at the moment Danno. When you get well enough we can talk about this more but don't think I'm going to let you go easily my friend. I need you!"

"Thanks Steve, I just think I need time to sort out what's going on in my head." He paused, unsure whether to reveal any more of what was plaguing him, he finally decided he owed McGarrett that much, "I'm having some problems." He revealed.

"Problems? What kind of problems?"

"It's probably nothing but I can't get that man out of my head, it's driving me mad. His face just keeps staring down at me every time I close my eyes and I almost believe he's still out there – watching me. I think every person at the door is someone out to get me, like they're just waiting for another shot. How crazy is that? I don't want to feel like this! "

"But you know he's thousands of miles away don't you? He's no threat to you any more Danno – trust me that after this is over that man will never be a part of your life again. As for seeing his face, you're on some pretty strong stuff – not to mention the fever you've been suffering from. It's only to be expected."

Williams sighed, "Cooke will always be a part of my life; the scars will be there after he's gone. Doc says my arm might need a graft and I'll never get rid of these completely…" Danny pulled back the sheets and showed Steve the partially healed kisses' on his lower hip. He was a marked man.

Steve felt nauseated but tried not to show it. "They can do some great things nowadays, maybe they can make them less…recognizable!?"

"Sure Steve only I'll still know what they are – like a brand. That psycho signs his work and laughs at his victims." He shivered and coughed finding it hard to keep his eyes open; signs that fatigue was taking over to drag him back down to the realm of sleep.

"Don't worry, I'll get someone to talk to you when you're feeling up to it, see if we can get the nightmares to go away."

"I just want to feel normal again…sorry Steve.." Danny closed his eyes and was asleep within moments.

McGarrett would do all in his power to help but how could he keep his friend safe from imagined faces? He would get a counselor to chat to Danny and hope that, in time, all would be forgotten and Williams would still be a part of Five-0.

In time.

-&-&-&-

"Okay we have eggs, bacon and hot coffee. Are you ready to eat?" McGarrett said and pulled out a seat for Williams to sit down.

"Steve you don't have to do this, I can wait on myself!"

"On the contrary, Doc says that you still need to relax and since I have nothing better to do this weekend than be on call and pamper you my friend that's just what I'm going to do!"

"Thanks. Really, this means a lot to me but I don't like putting you out like this."

"Nonsense, it's great to have company."

"What about your boat, weren't you getting that ready for a race?"

"Sure Danno but I have another fortnight before then and by that time I hope that you will be able to help me prepare her."

Danny Williams smiled, almost back to his old self after the upsets and trauma of the past three weeks. His health was steadily returning and with it some of his _joie de vivre. _The deepest injuries were healed but aching – new skin tight over the scars, all but the wound on his arm where the skin had been cut away, that had required a graft from another part of his body and both wounds were still sore as were his feet every time he walked. Most importantly, the counseling sessions had stopped, Williams insisting that all was fine in that department and nothing short of a subpoena could make him go back in the room with the psychiatrist they had assigned to him. The man made him feel too much like a victim and, true though it was, he wasn't happy being asked to emote to a complete stranger because of it. He would survive.

Still feeling the need to watch over his 2-I-C, Mc Garrett had insisted Dan stay at his condo to recuperate after his release from hospital and seemed to take enormous pride in sharing his hermit-like lifestyle with his good friend and colleague. Danny had rarely seen Steve so happy.

"I would be honored to help you Steve, really I would."

"Good then tuck in, eat and enjoy while you can because I intend to make you pay back everything when you get back to work!" McGarrett grinned but underneath the mere mention of work made him twitch. They still hadn't concluded their conversation from that day in the hospital and Steve hadn't had a definite confirmation that Williams was coming back to Five-0. He was loathe to broach the subject when the sun was shining and the day was full of promise so instead he blanked out even the remotest possibility of it not happening and decided instead to continue forward on the premise that his team would be back together soon.

There were still trials and tribulations ahead, namely Williams still had some work to do on the Cooke case as a witness and because of the serious nature of the outcome he would be grilled thoroughly by anyone with an interest in it. Steve wished he could have spared Danno from the trauma but knew he could not. They just had to deal with it as best they could.

"So did you sleep well last night?" McGarrett asked casually before biting into some toast and crunching it noisily. He was concerned to see a ghost of a frown cross the otherwise sunny countenance as Dan paused meaningfully with a fork half-way to his lips.

"Fine." Was the only reply before he bit down and although Steve knew instantly that the younger man was lying he decided not to push any further. If he wanted to tell him what was going on he would.

Truth was that Williams was still having trouble closing his eyes without seeing the long-haired monster in the dark. He knew it was ridiculous but couldn't shake the feeling that he was being watched – it made the hairs rise on the back of his neck and he was more grateful than he could ever say that he was McGarrett's house guest – the thought of being alone was troubling to him on a primeval level. He was more than able to take care of himself but felt that both of them preferred the company for a while longer. And then it suddenly occurred to him – how could he ever leave McGarrett and Five-0? The dark-haired and stiff-backed man had welcomed him into the tight inner circle of his life and trusted Danny with his most private feelings, to leave him vulnerable without a good person to cover his back in times of need was something Williams knew that he could not do. He cared about Steve too much.

Realizing they had yet to talk about his decision he decided that today was the day to stop feeling sorry for himself and start bringing the well-being of his work ohana to the fore. Of all things he hoped he wasn't selfish enough to consider himself before them. He put the fork down on his plate with a clatter, the shiny spikes spearing a mixture of abandoned runny egg and crisped bacon and stood up, the added height lending weight to his words as he reached for some juice on the hatch and began pouring it into a beaker, "Steve," he began – more sure of his future now than he had been in weeks, "I know we haven't touched on this subject but I'd like you to know that I'm ready to come back to work whenever you want me."

The broad grin that spread across McGarrett's face and light in his eyes could only be described as joyous. There was relief there too and Danny understood – he felt the same. Part of the reason he would find it hard to sustain a relationship with a woman was his wholehearted commitment to being a policeman; bringing wrong doers to justice thrummed in his blood and being a part of McGarrett's elite team – his second-in-command no less - was one of the most important elements of his world. He thrived on their partnership to the detriment of his social life (which, Danny sustained as best he could) but that was okay, together they would put bad guys like Roger Cooke out of business and off the streets.

McGarrett couldn't help himself, leaving his own cooling fare he rose from the table and did one of the rarest things Williams had ever seen, he mussed his hair and hugged him close spilling the newly poured orange between them as the glass was jostled, "Welcome home Danno."

-&-&-&-


	13. Chapter 13

AUTHOR'S WARNING: THIS CHAPTER's EPILOGUE CONTAINS GRAPHIC SCENES OF AN EXECUTION.

"'kay now bruddah close your eyes tight!"

"Kono do I have to? I'm going to trip on something!"

"Trust me, you ain't going far enough to trip. I've got you Danny." The solid Hawaiian said as he acted as guide for the younger man.

"Okay so now what?"

"Keep going, that's it, keep walking forward."

Danny slammed gently into a wall and yelped. "Oops, maybe not quite so far!" Kalakua chuckled.

"Kono!!"

A ripple of laughter rose gradually through the air as Dan was turned around in circles, eyes closed and disorientated.

"I think he's had enough!" Came a familiar voice from somewhere to his left.

"Yeah, let the poor kid see!" Was Chin Ho Kelly's retort from the right of him.

"You can open them now Danno!" Was Steve McGarrett's quip and Williams' blue eyes sprang wide as he finally stepped over the threshold into the Five-0 offices only to be stunned by what awaited him.

This was his first day back at work after the weeks of recuperation and he was feeling anxious about returning to the welcoming arms of his extended family but just for the second the loss of his girlfriend and the shadows that accompanied him were temporarily pushed back by the waves of warmth he felt from the assembled. Steve, Chin, Kono, Jenny, Che, Doc Bergman, Duke, George - all lined up to greet him and behind them friends from HPD that he hadn't seen in months. The office was packed, Dan had never seen so many banners, balloons and paper streamers collected together in one place; all the colors of the rainbow strewn around or dangling from any available hook. His name stared back at him with welcoming words of aloha. He was sure Steve would bust a gut at the mess but all he saw on his best friend's face was joy.

"Wow!" Was all Williams could muster in response and was treated to a round of applause that made him blush becomingly from his collar right through to his sandy roots.

McGarrett wasn't applauding, he was standing there like a proud brother, grinning, hands behind his back. When the plaudits finally trickled to a stop the Five-0 chief brought his arms to the fore with a gift wrapped in brown and silver paper with a gigantic orange bow that would have done a milliner proud.

As Dan stepped forward the circle closed in on them until the only space left was between himself and McGarrett.

"Danno, I thought you might need these." Steve offered the present to his second-in-command who, in anything, blushed even deeper than before.

"What is it?" Williams said as he accepted the gift.

"Well you're the detective Detective – so detect!"

Danny laughed and shook the box, "Well it's pretty heavy – er…but not so heavy that I can't lift it! It's attractively presented so it has to have been wrapped either by a shop..," he said looking straight at Jenny who fluttered her eyelids and shook her head, "Or a woman!" Sherman smiled, he was correct.

"Keep going." McGarrett encouraged.

"Erm…well since I shook it and it didn't explode I'd have to say it's not a bomb." He heard Che Fong tut and Dan added, "Not a type I know of anyway." Che smiled. "Okay let me see. It's long enough and deep enough to house a cat but, no air holes!"

"Hey bruddah, why would Steve give you a dead cat?" Chin laughed.

"Come on, open it up!" Urged a voice from the far corner and murmurs of agreement went around.

"They're right Danno, you're failing miserably on this one, I may just have to fire you!"

"One last chance." He tried again, "I'd say from the displacement of weight, the size and width it's…." Dan sneakily opened a corner, carefully peeling back a layer of paper and peered in theatrically, "A pair of shoes! Oh my gosh Steve they're the best kind!" Williams said as he opened the parcel in a rush, discarding the expensive wrapping and noted the most expensive brand of running trainers printed on the box before taking them out and proudly displaying them in their new rubber-soled glory.

McGarrett clapped his friend on the shoulder and squeezed tight, "I hope you like them !? You can try them out with me tomorrow." He never mentioned to the assembled just why the detective would need a new pair but the look that passed between the two men would have told anyone with half a brain that there was something more to the gift than just the giving of sports shoes.

"They're great…what can I say? Mahalo my friend – for _everything_." Danny replied with feeling and swallowed a lump that had risen in his throat.

"So coffee and pastries everyone?" Jenny broke the moment between the two men and, together with the other secretaries began offering the sweet fare around, most accepted before trying to catch Danny's attention. McGarrett moved away, content to watch his friend disappear beneath a landslide of arms and hands. He sat back on the corner of Sherman's desk and was pleased to notice that every now and then Danno's head rose from the group surrounding him to catch his eye.

Party guy though Danno normally was, McGarrett was aware that Williams was still feeling the effects of his encounter with Cooke and he of all people knew how much it cost his friend to expose himself like this so soon after his brush with death. Physically he was fine but Steve had sat up in his room night after night listening to the tormented nightmares his friend was sleeping through in the guest room next door. At times he had been so afraid for Dan that he had sat on the bed next to him and gently woken him up to comfort and reassure him, soothing the fears with words of wisdom and comfort. Steve would never admit to anyone what his second went through then or during the long hours of pain in hospital; he was simply grateful that Danno had someone to rely on in his darkest hours. They had an unspoken bond that had deepened because of Roger Cooke and McGarrett swore that he would never let the younger man go through that kind of experience again.

Much of what transpired in the cabin remained hidden, even from him. There came points in conversations when Danny's nerves were too raw to go further and Steve sensed the need to back off. He admitted to himself that it wasn't only his second-in-command that bore the scars of the encounter, he did too. He smiled when he recalled waking up with a jolt from a startlingly vivid dream involving his friend and the killer only to find Dan right there, by his bedside with the same look of concern he had displayed the night before when Williams was having a panic attack. Brothers did that for each other.

"Hey boss, you want something?" Kono asked and came to stand by McGarrett's side, two jelly donuts firmly in his grasp and a heap of sugar dripping on the carpet. Steve snapped out of his reverie.

"No, thanks Kono." Steve said distractedly, surveying the merrymaking with the air of someone completely alone with this thoughts. "He looks well doesn't he?"

"Sure does. Danny's strong. I hear Cooke's for the chair." Kalakua spoke without emotion either for or against the verdict; it was a simple statement.

"Yeah, foregone conclusion pretty much."

"Will you go?"

McGarrett nodded in Williams' direction, "I think it's up to Danno."

"But if he goes you'll be with him right?" Kono asked, wanting to know that his friend would be in good company.

"Just try keeping me away!"

A small flurry of activity caught Steve's eye at the entrance to the office and Diane, the pretty Iolani Palace receptionist weaved her way through the throng with a parcel in her hands, her long dark hair flowing over her slender brown shoulders. When she spotted Williams she headed straight for him.

Steve couldn't hear what was being said but he automatically moved towards the center of the action, brushing bodies aside as he felt a hush come over the room.

"Diane what is it?" Steve asked and saw a box in Danny's hands covered in plain brown wrapping with DANNY WALKER C/O IOLANI PALACE written in what appeared to be congealed blood on the top. Williams looked as though he had just been bitten by a snake, all the color had drained from his face and beads of perspiration broke out on his forehead, his face was screwed up in distaste.

"Someone left this on the desk and since there's no one else with a name close who works here I figured it was for Mr Williams." The pretty young girl said innocently, disturbed by how quiet everyone had gone all of a sudden.

"Did you see anyone put it there?" McGarrett asked.

"No, they must have moved like the breeze though, I was only gone for a second!"

"That's okay we'll sort it out you run along, thanks." Steve said and without needing to be asked Che Fong pushed through the throng milling around Williams and, donning a pair of plastic gloves that he always carried with him, gently took the box from the death grip Danno had on it and laid it very carefully on one of the desks.

"Okay ladies and gentlemen – I think the party's over for now – thank you all for coming, it might be best if everyone moved outside until we find out what this is."

If nothing else the gathered were professionals use to the routine when suspect packages were found, no one needed to be asked twice. Danny had joked about a bomb before – now they were checking one for real!

Jenny Sherman, ever keen to protect her men, walked up to Steve as he was looking over the parcel and said quietly, "What about Danny boss? He looks like he's seen a ghost!"

Steve glanced over to where his friend was, the young man was stuck rigid to the floor, breathing heavily, hands still clenched like he was holding the package. He looked about ready to collapse. "Just a sec Che." He said to the forensics expert and the Oriental man stopped his examination of the parcel long enough for Steve to ascertain how Danny was.

"Danno you okay?"

"That was the name Steve…!" Williams began, his voice almost breaking with emotion.

"What name?" Steve frowned. "Come on, let's get you out of here!" He motioned to Kono but Danny shrugged the other man off.

"I'm okay, I'm not a baby! Danny Walker – that was the name I gave Cooke – when he…when he asked me who I was." Dan shook his head. "How did that name get on the parcel?!"

"We're about to find that out but first I want you out of here!"

"NO! Look I don't need pampering; I need to know what's in that box!" And when McGarrett's jaw clenched in response Danny added, "Please!"

"Okay my friend," Steve gave in, "but everyone else out of here – Kono, Chin that includes you!"

McGarrett put an arm around Williams and ushered him into a chair where he could be close by, but not on top of, Che and the dreaded package. The small scientist was concentrating hard and delicately feeling around the box for wires or any hidden booby trap. Satisfied that he could feel nothing, he slid a pen-knife carefully under the paper and slit it up the side and across the top revealing the opening which was taped down.

"Dare we move it downstairs Che?" Steve asked as he stood over the other man and licked his lips that had suddenly become very dry.

"Negative Steve, it's been shaken enough. Frankly I don't think there is a bomb in here but we'll soon find out. Do you have a flashlight?"

"Yeah, uh, in my office."

"I'll get it." Danny offered, having come around from his initial shock. McGarrett nodded to him and watched the officer as he disappeared then reappeared with the torch. His face was like wax and it was clear that Williams dreaded the thought of what might be inside.

With the most delicate of touches, Che Fong cut the tape. Parting the opening and, lifting the cardboard up a fraction of an inch with the flat of the knife, he peered inside using the flashlight.

"No bomb." He said with finality and all three men heaved a collective sigh of relief.

Che examined the writing on the cover before checking the contents. "Definitely looks like blood, not sure what kind, I'll have to take it to the lab and examine it with everything else."

"Let's see what's inside." McGarrett said and as Williams drew near put a hand on the flat of the sandy-haired man's back, giving him unspoken support.

When they opened the box up a smell of rot wafted up and they grimaced with distaste, whatever was in there was long since dead. The inside was layered with plastic and sitting on top was a gruesome sight, a pink rat had been half flayed, the skin pared off, the other half was sliced with a myriad of tiny cuts. No blood was visible, it was virtually exsanguinated, what remained of the fur had once been a creamy white.

"Looks like we might have found the source of the blood!" Steve quipped.

The poor dead creature was lying on top of a multi-colored 7" record and was pinned through the center of it to some wood below by a scalpel blade covered in something dry and crusty. It looked like a bizarre insect in an eccentric entomologist's collection. There was a miniature label attached to its foot by string and, upon examination they could see words written in delicate block capitals on it, it read; DANNY WILLIAMS – RAT'. Careful not to disturb the evidence Steve moved the head of the corpse aside just enough to see the printed face on the vinyl that was peeking out from underneath. Just as he did so he heard a strangled noise from Dan's throat and his friend rushed headlong from the room. The face was that of a cheery, smiling Doris Day.

Hot on his heels was McGarrett. Sharing a look of concern with Che he ran to find his detective. Neither man knew the significance of some of the elements in the parcel but what they saw was enough to chill them to the core.

"Where is he Chin?" Steve asked as he raced into the hallway and almost bumped into a confused Kelly who, together with Kalakua had refused to leave the building, "Wash room, sounds like he's unhappy! I was just about to go in. The bomb?"

"Okay thanks I'll deal with him. Everything is fine, no bomb, you can get everyone back inside now but I want to know if anyone spotted who delivered that parcel – anyone at all Chin, it's very important!" If Kelly was curious to know what was in the parcel he knew better than to ask. He would find out in good time if it was necessary. "Sure boss." He went off to do his boss' bidding.

Steve pushed the heavy wooden door open and stood just inside the good-sized room. Waiting until the tell-tale flush of the toilet happened, he gently knocked at the door to the cubicle and it swung open. McGarrett was un-surprised to notice it hadn't been locked.

A very pale and shaky Dan emerged, eyes red-rimmed. He went over to the basin, ignoring his boss hovering over him. After patting his face down he checked his gray countenance in the glass, shocked to see he had grown old within minutes. Steve handed him a wadge of paper towels and waited for Williams to speak, it wasn't clear if the man had been ill or was just emotional.

Dan looked at him via the mirror, finding it easier to face his boss that way. He felt stupid but knew that over the past couple of weeks his friend had seen him in a worse state than today. He had been through it all, the tears, sickness, fever, bad dreams – the works - and still he stayed true. There was never any distaste, nor blame or overt pity in those deep dark blue eyes of McGarrett's, just a solid and reassuring presence – a man that a friend could rely on in times of need.

"It was the record that did it. Look I'm sorry," Williams began.

"Nothing to be sorry about Danno. What about the record?"

Dan turned around and chucked the screwed up towels toward the wire basket hanging on the opposite wall, missing by about a mile.

"He ah…Cooke that is..he kept singing and whistling a tune when he…when he… cut me and it's…oh god!" Danny put a hand over his eyes, seeing too much for his sanity.

"And that was the record?"

Williams nodded.

Steve gently brought Danny's hand back down, "Then I think we can definitely say that Cooke engineered the whole thing to throw you!"

Danny laughed nervously, "Well it worked, I'm rattled good and proper! I feel sick."

The taller man stood over him, looking earnestly into the face of the person he trusted with his life, he wouldn't let them be beaten by a psychopath. "Listen Danno, Roger Cooke is over 4,000 miles away, sitting in a top security prison on death row, there is no way that he is coming after you! This is some sick practical joke that he engineered, you know people find ways to do that kind of thing – think man! Of course he's going to bear you a grudge, you're the only one who survived; it's because of you he's back in prison. You _can't_ let him scare you, I WON'T let you live your life looking over your shoulder! How many times have we been threatened before? Too many."

"I know, I know Steve! It doesn't make any sense, Doctor Woodfield told me that, and so did the police shrink but that was before that message. It's stupid to be worried but something bothers me about the whole thing and I don't think I'll feel safe until the sentence is carried out. Isn't that an awful thing to say!?"

"No Danno, that's not awful, just understandable. You're staying at my place for a while, longer, no arguments. Just until I feel comfortable with you being on your own and after we've found who the delivery boy was. Look, let's not discuss it just now but when things have settled down I'd like you to consider going to the execution. I'd be there with you."

Danny looked up at his friend, eyes wide. "Steve, you don't mean that? I…I can't…!"

"All I ask is that you think about it but later – not now - you've just had a shock. It might be the only way to lay this particular problem to rest. Right, now come on my friend, cheer up – this is your first day back at work and in your absence I have been collecting every scrap of paperwork for you! Trust me you will be here until five am – at least – so I _strongly_ suggest you tuck into one of those donuts to keep your strength up before Kono gets them all!"

Steve tried to make light of the scare his friend had just had and ushered the slender man back into the office before he had time to object. Once again his detective was surrounded by well-meaning friends who inquired after his health and asked questions about the parcel they would never get the full answers to. At least here, in the bosom of Five-0 he would be safe, but for how long?

In his heart McGarrett knew that out there somewhere, on Hawaiian soil, was a person, or persons unknown who helped to engineer Cooke's escape, someone who had prepared and delivered the package to the Palace to scare Danny and that person was very much at large. He just hoped that this was the end of it but his infamous gut told him that it wasn't.

EPILOGUE

All Hallow's eve Sunday 31st October 1971 – Illinois state prison

It is a long walk down Death Row to the chamber, particularly when your ankles are bound by chains. The long hair is gone now, just a shadow remains around the pale man's skull. He is thinner and less confident than he was. The final indignity in a long list of indignities for which he has only himself to blame.

The low-level lighting shines off the sweat on his shaved pate and he ambles to his death. The orange uniform a shade too cheerful for his last outfit but so appropriate for Halloween; for like a macabre and grimacing pumpkin, he is already hollow inside.

He catches a glimpse of a familiar face at the end of the long corridor and knows the man has seen him too. There is an undeniable bond between them. From his victim he feels – he knows not what - but there is no denying the waves of hatred washing off the taller man standing beside him before that man taps the other on the shoulder, breaking their brief connection. The men disappear into a room. He hopes Danny Williams will remember him forever.

At precisely the same time, down the other end of the corridor, Detective Williams walks slowly, coming to a stop under the glow of a metal light after hearing the squeak of footsteps and rattle of chains at the opposite side of the strip of varnished blood-red floor.

He turns to look and there, coming down the gloomy gray passageway, is the person he has come to see for the very last time. He suppresses a shudder as they stare at each other: predator and prey before he feels the presence of love behind him and a strong hand tapping his shoulder.

Comforting his friend Steve McGarrett looks too, a glower of pure unadulterated hatred at the man who forced his friend and brother through such torment barely five months before and killed so many before that. If he could pull the switch himself he thinks he would.

They seat themselves in the small observation room lined with wooden chairs, disinfected flooring and serious, nameless men in tailored suits.

Outside in the echoing corridor the man in the metal cuffs begins singing a tune he hasn't sung in months. "_Que será, será, whatever will be will be…the future's not ours to see.._"

Danny hears the pseudo-cheerful sound and a knot tightens in his gut, memories of pain and terror flooding him until it almost overwhelms him. Sitting next to him, Steve's gentle hand is back on his arm; grip strong and reassuring. McGarrett has no idea of the humiliating images going through his friend's mind as the condemned man croons his last song.

In a second room, separated only by glass, is a chair polished by pain and sweat. A chair that to all the world could have belonged to a barber – were it not for the straps. _One chair for cutting hair and one for cutting life_. Leather restraints, wires, telephone, bucket and a simple ticking clock are all furnished with the express purpose of aiding to extinguish life. _Tick tock_. Counting the fractions of time until noon.

Danny's sole focus is on the chair. Steve's focus is on Danny.

The whistling gets closer and finally stops just outside the death chamber. All is quiet.

Roger Cutter' Cooke's nerve almost fails him then. He turns to the prison officers holding each arm and his look is pleading but their eyes are cold, neither showing him pity nor fear or happiness. He cannot understand why and that is when he speaks. Cooke turns to the priest behind him, "Father this isn't fair, I've done nothing!" his voice rises in anguish. The priest smiles benevolently, makes the sign of the cross and says nothing. "I'm innocent!" He adds. _Of course you are_, is the silent response.

They push him firmly into the room to face the seat of death and his voice momentarily leaves him as the reality sinks in. His eyes dart about taking in the traumatic view, the last he will have of the world. The clock on the wall speaks; _tick tock_.' Cooke feels his power leaving him and a warm trickle runs down the inside of his leg.

They sit him in the chair, tying his legs and arms to it - strapping him in tightly; thick brown belts of leather across chest, arms, legs and groin. He cannot escape, or move, or _breathe_.

The tables have finally turned. _Who has the power now Cutter'?_

Tick tock

Four minutes to twelve.

For all his fear, he refuses the blindfold over his eyes; he wants to see those last few minutes, he needs to stare at the person who put him there. Behind the glass to the observation room he _wants_ Danny Williams to know he is gazing into his soul. This final moment he will now steal for himself and deep inside he knows that his last victim will be someone else's first. It gives him so much pleasure he almost forgets he is about to die. During the long months in captivity he has made plans, plans to bring Williams to him – in the afterlife where he can torment him forever.

There is no one from his past to witness his passing just officials, press, a doctor, the priest and two melancholy policemen from Hawaii. No one is on his side.

Tick tock

All muttering stops. Everything is deathly silent. Danny Williams holds his breath shocked to find himself hoping that the phone in the chamber doesn't ring – _no clemency, no reprieve_. McGarrett's face is impassive. Neither of them enjoy this spectacle; the last few moments of a human being's life - but which part of Cooke is human? If the Five-0 detectives cannot tell no one can.

Tick tock

A large natural sponge is lifted dripping from a bucket of saline beside the chair and placed on the murderer's head, a wired metal electrode with a chin strap is then seated over the top, strap tightened under Cooke's chin until he grimaces. His teeth chatter from nerves, liquid dripping into his eyes. There is a gap in the material where his leg has been shaved and another small electrode covered in gel is attached there …._Thisisitthisisitthisisit._

Time for last words but there is only one thing on Cooke's mind. He stares straight into Danny's eyes, separated only by a glass veil and says..

"Que Sera Danny Williams, I'll see you in Hell!"

Danny jumps, blood draining completely from his face and Steve grips his shoulder hard, keeping his officer grounded.

Cooke laughs at his own words before the execution team retires to the observation room and his executioner stands by the large handle, waiting for the signal.

Tick Tock .. …Tick

No phone rings, the clock strikes twelve

The warden signals, the switch is pulled, the overhead light flickers and electricity flows through living human flesh.

In the observation room two men leave, too sick to watch. Others gasp at what they are witnessing, nothing preparing them for the horrendous noise and sight of a man frying; at least they are spared the stench.

After a sixty long seconds and two attempts, the doctor pronounces Roger Cooke dead.

The door to the observation room opens and people file out, some with handkerchiefs to their mouths, nauseated, others completely unfazed by the gruesome spectacle.

Two men are left in the room bound together in memories and friendship both hardly able to comprehend what they have just witnessed.

Danny Williams' blinks rapidly as he stares at the now sightless body before him. He never wants to see anything like that again.

"Let's go home Steve. Whatever has been – is _done_" he says quietly.

Tick tock – tick.

PAU - THE END


End file.
